It is alive…ALIVE!
Many apologies for the appalling lack of posting. I have entirely lost my ability to make my boring every day life seem remotely interesting. Thoughts have been popping into my head here and there and I’ve been posting those through my Twitter feature on the right hand side of my blog.
But in a nutshell this is one of the highlights of my last week
We had another little fire incident at the apartment. Not the scale that went down last August but nevertheless a pain in my ass because each of these wee situations requires me to walk down and up many flights of stairs carrying a cat in a box. Most of the time I ignore the fire alarm as it usually is a result of construction happening on the roof. This time it all unfolded a little differently.
So I was getting into bed at about 11:30 pm and once I turned off the TV and got all snuggled in I noticed the distant sound of a smoke detector. I wasn’t sure where it was coming from as sound bounces around strangely in the ‘hood due to all the high-rise apartment buildings. So it could be coming from my building, the building across the street or the building 3 blocks away. You just never know.
So I ignored it.
20 minutes later the smoke detector was still going off. Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee….
I got out of bed and stood on my balcony to see if I could see or smell anything. Or tell where this noise was coming from. No clue.
I got back into bed.
10 minutes later the noise was still going. I got out of bed and got my shoes on and went out into my hallway. Not coming from anybody on my floor. I went out to my balcony again and it was louder there. And now I can smell burning food. Hmmm. But there is a huge hotel and several restaurants nearby so I could be catching a whiff of their evening menu.
I went back into the hallway. At this time I briefly considered getting into the elevator and going to each floor to check if something was going down flame-wise. Then I thought to myself, “Why am I always the one taking care of things? If something is going wrong on another floor then it is those tenants responsibility to handle it. Butt out and let somebody else deal with it for a change.” This attitude comes from where I used to live where I was the only one who ever dealt with problems with the landlord. Everybody else just let their sinks leak and their toilets run and the basement flood.
Also if I was in the elevator when the fire alarm was pulled I’d be automatically sent to the lobby at which time I’d have to climb all those flights of stairs again to get the damned cat in her damned box only to have to go back down all those stairs again and so on and so on…
I am a lazy and bitter asshole. Whatever.
But what I did do was lay out a full set of nice clothes including shoes and put my purse by the door making sure I had my wallet and cell phone in it. I took the cat carrier out of the closet and set that up for a quick get away.
Then I went back to bed.
The smoke detector continued to eeeee in the background for another 10-15 minutes and then the fire alarm went off.
At this point it was about 12:30 am. I was pissed.
I got dressed, hauled the terrified cat out from under the bed and crammed her into the box, slipped on my shoes and coat, slung my purse over my shoulder and trudged down the stairs.
Once outside the building I was surrounded by folks wearing housecoats and slippers.
I laughed at them. In my mind. Smugly, I was standing there all dressed in matching garments and a warm jacket. I got some dirty looks. Quickly, I put on my “concerned for others’ wellbeing” face and settled myself on the nearest cement curb. I made sure the very old and frail lady next to me was ok and didn’t need her heart medication and waited for the hunky fire-guys to show up.
They showed up and checked the building. Turns out somebody burned the shit out of their hotdogs. That is the story anyway, but I suspect something else went down that somebody isn’t willing to admit to (hotdogs =bong) as I don’t get how somebody could let their smoke detector go off for an hour. You’d think they’d open a window, wave a tea towel at it and smack it with a broom handle. Like it says in the instructions, right?
Trying to be helpful I had a chat with one of the particularly cute fire guys telling him how long the alarm had been going off etc. knowing that I alone was the only one fully dressed and accessorized due to my disaster fashion planning and thereby the most attractive of all my neighbours.
He did not succumb to my charms. I chalked it up to work pressure.
I walked back up all those flights of stairs, got back into my PJs and taking off my glasses to get back into bed touched my cheek and realized the whole time I had some very greasy cold-cream smeared all over my face. Akin to the shiny effects of Vaseline applied liberally on one’s skin. Yes, that was me.
Talking to cute fire guy.
With goop on my face.
Thinking I was the shit.