“My roommate put my $90 cast iron in the dishwasher. Twice. It rusts now.”

I own one good pan. Cast iron. Seasoned for two years. I asked one thing. Hand wash only. I said it out loud. I wrote it on a sticky note. He ran it through the dishwasher. Twice. Once in March. Once last Tuesday. The seasoning is gone. There is rust in the ridges. It smells like a fence. I re-seasoned it three times. Three coats of oil. Two hours in the oven each. It will not come back. He used it to fry an egg the next morning. The egg stuck. He blamed the pan. I want the pan replaced. I want it in writing that he stops touching it.

I simply find it interesting that a pan described as "one good pan" was left, unwashed, in a shared sink for two days before I addressed it. I did not seek it out. I cleared the sink so both of us could function. Per the note in question, it said "hand wash," not "quarantine." I was not aware that loading a communal dishwasher constituted an offense worth filing. I would also note, courteously, that his "seasoning" leaves a film on every dish I own. My glasses come out greasy. I have said nothing for eleven months. So I find it interesting that I am the one on trial here.

The note said hand wash. He read it. He chose the dishwasher. Twice. The film he mentions is oil. It rinses off. Rust does not. I left the pan to cool. That is not "quarantine." That is a hot pan. He did not clear the sink. He cleared one item. Mine.

I remain happy to contribute to a replacement, in the spirit of harmony, once he acknowledges that a shared kitchen is, in fact, shared. I simply find it telling that the greasy glasses go unmentioned while my one dishwasher load becomes a federal case. I did not ruin a pan. I washed one. Thoroughly.