So last month, there was a fire at Boyfriend’s apartment complex.  The occupant who lived above Boyfriend’s next-door neighbor left something cooking on his stove as he walked to the corner store.  It was on a Sunday evening, and Boyfriend and I had been relaxing when we wondered why we were smelling smoke.  Moments later, Apollo started barking frantically and we saw the living room fill with smoke.  We grabbed the essentials – I grabbed the puppy and my purse, while Boyfriend grabbed his laptop that held all his research data.  Then we ran outside, where a fire department was already battling the fire.  We stayed outside for an hour.  Apollo shook the whole time.  Boyfriend got interviewed on the news, with Apollo panting frantically in his arms.  Luckily no one was injured and all units (save for the source of the fire) were relatively unharmed.

Even though the fire happened about a month ago, Boyfriend’s apartment still smells like someone had an indoor barbecue in it.

This evening, I had just finished taking Apollo for a walk.  I was doing chores when I smelled something…familiar.  I looked at the dog.  “Apollo,” I said seriously.  “Is there a fire?” I inspected the apartment and to my alarm, I could smell smoke. I grabbed my purse and cajoled Apollo into my arms with a doggy treat (he’s going to puppy classes next week, incidentally).

I walked around the apartment building and didn’t see any fire.  Hesitant to call the fire department unless I could visually spot the fire, but not wanting to lose any of my belongings, I went back upstairs.  I knocked on my neighbor’s door.  We met this year; he has two beagles that Apollo is very fond of.

“Um, do you smell smoke in your apartment?” I asked. “Oh yeah, that was me,” he laughed.  Guess what happened?  He left his pan on the stove and walked to the leasing office.


I really want to make a public service announcement on billboards everywhere – “DON’T LEAVE YOUR FUCKING STOVE ON IF YOU’RE GOING TO STEP OUT OF YOUR APARTMENT OR HOME.  GOD.”

And now this place smells like smoke. But not the barbecue smell that Boyfriend’s apartment has, just smoke. Lovely.


One thought on “STAY AWAY, FIRE

  1. What the hell is wrong with people? There should be basic safety and competence classes that are mandatory for people to even be allowed to use a stove. Or live independently.

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