Safety First

I don’t sleep many hours a night but when I do, I sleep like the dead. People have actually checked my pulse during the night. When I was young, I used to joke that if someone poured water over my head I’d drown before I woke up. Someone laughed at this (most likely my father) so I used the line to describe my sleeping habits until I realized it wasn’t funny. Sad to say that was a recent realization.

This also meants that if there was a fire, I would most likely burn alive. I just learned that isn't possible in my apartment building because safety comes first.

Around 3:30 a.m. yesterday morning I awoke to an incessant pounding on my front door. A Staten Island accent yelled, “FIRE!” My eyes opened slowly and tried to think if I called for more booty and wanted to role play fireman and damsel in distress. No. I was suddenly freaked out, not because he yelled fire, but because a stranger was about to pound his way in. I do not open my door or answer my buzzer unless I’m expecting a visitor. Period. Although frightening and foolish in life or death situations, I’m always proud when I follow my own laws.

I calmed down and sat up in bed to assess the situation. My apartment was lit up like a pinball machine given the Fire truck lights alive outside. I couldn’t decide if I should shimmy down the fire escape or hit play on “Burn baby burn” and take advantage of the spontaneous disco scene.

There was quite the commotion outside. I expected to look out my window and witness flames licking the sides of building, people jumping from windows or running in the streets telling others to stop, drop, and roll. Nothing. There were multiple firefighters milling around talking too loud but that’s it. No fire, no smoke, no signs of any activity that required these heroes to waste time in my neighborhood. Aren't there real emergenies somewhere else?

Once I felt secure, I opened the door with the next round of pounding and FIRE screaming. In front of me stood 2 men dressed in full gear as if the building had to be quarantined because ET was sick. I listened as they explained that there was a kitchen fire in the restaurant located on the first floor of my apartment building and did I notice if any of my walls were warm? Since I can pretty much touch all four walls standing in the same place, I did that and confirmed my box wasn’t hot. (It might have been if they sent in the good looking fire force. Ohhhhh yeaaaaah!) All safe. I went back to sleep with ease.

I returned from work that evening to a safety notice explaining that the grease fire was put out immediately, before the trucks arrived, and nothing was damaged. Quite the production for a hot plate accident. I appreciate the safety precautions but I’m a little worried about what I’d have to endure if a smoke alarm ever went off.