[Cough cough] "This isn't a kitchen"

In the absence of having a toaster, I attempted to use my oven on the weekend to make toast.

I learned that it gives you an electric shock as you open the door. It was so unexpected that I thought it was a muscle tick. So I pulled out one of the  trays and got another shock. Using toddler logic, I tried yet another tray and experienced the same result.

So I put the bread back in the freezer and reached for a bottle of wine.

I emailed the landlord immediately to inform her. After no response, I phoned her. This resulted in a protracted explanation, with some onomatopoeia on my part ("bzzzz" "arghh!" "kerspat!" . Finally she giggled a bit, said that she understood me now, and asked whether anything else in the apartment was also electrocuting me. I said I would prefer not to do a whole lot more testing. She giggled again as she said "We can't get anyone today. Someone tomorrow. Just don't touch anything. OK?". 

[Click]

Umm, OK.

2 days later she sent me an email to say it was all fixed and a letter would be arriving for me to sign. All these written warnings are giving me the willies.