Ready, Aim,
So last Wednesday, after work, I drove directly to meet some friends for Greek food at Ziziki's. The accumulation of fire trucks on Central Expressway didn't strike me as that interesting at the time.
After finishing off dinner with a couple of beers at the Flying Saucer with my buddies, I headed for home, only to find that my apartment building was all taped off with the "Police Line — Do Not Cross" tape you see on TV crime dramas all the time. I asked the policeman sitting there what had happened.
"There was a fire," he answered.
"What should I do?" I asked.
"Nothing," he said (I marveled at the subdued wittiness of that). "They're putting people up in hotel rooms if you need a place to stay."
After I explained that I had two cats and had to find out if they were alright, the policeman let me into the building to retrieve them
In a nutshell, my cats were okay, though they had some smoke inhalation and smelled like barbecue, and most of my stuff was okay, aside from the terrible ubiquitous ashtray odor.
It's times like this you start to analyze the coincidental things you've said:
"I moved my website off my server — in case of a fire or whatever, I wouldn't want to lose everything." "I'll be there barring any unforeseen circumstances." "I'll have to remember this next time I move."
I know I didn't cause the fire, but did I somehow know it was coming? Kind of the same way that animals hide before a storm? Who knows.
Anyway, I'm tired and have 50 gillion email to read so that I can go into work tomorrow at least pretending I haven't been on another planet for four days.
After finishing off dinner with a couple of beers at the Flying Saucer with my buddies, I headed for home, only to find that my apartment building was all taped off with the "Police Line — Do Not Cross" tape you see on TV crime dramas all the time. I asked the policeman sitting there what had happened.
"There was a fire," he answered.
"What should I do?" I asked.
"Nothing," he said (I marveled at the subdued wittiness of that). "They're putting people up in hotel rooms if you need a place to stay."
After I explained that I had two cats and had to find out if they were alright, the policeman let me into the building to retrieve them
In a nutshell, my cats were okay, though they had some smoke inhalation and smelled like barbecue, and most of my stuff was okay, aside from the terrible ubiquitous ashtray odor.
It's times like this you start to analyze the coincidental things you've said:
I know I didn't cause the fire, but did I somehow know it was coming? Kind of the same way that animals hide before a storm? Who knows.
Anyway, I'm tired and have 50 gillion email to read so that I can go into work tomorrow at least pretending I haven't been on another planet for four days.