Last night, the peace and quiet of my wonderful abode was disturbed by a fire alarm and the smell of smoke coming from next door. Accustomed as I am to cockpit alarm bells and horns ringing, and a requirement to solve the problem in order to have them cease and desist, I grabbed my goodies (e.g. wallet, keys, glasses and shoes) and hit the road.
Yeah, yeah, I know. That didn’t stop any warning bells or sirens, but what the hell, I don’t fly any more either.
Truth be told, I didn’t hit the road forthwith.
I felt my door to try and determine if it was warm or hot to the touch. Ditto the doorknob. Nope. Check.
Back to collect the above-mentioned wallet, keys, glasses, shoes and, oh yeah, a pair of long pants. Check.
The nights are cool up here now.
Close open windows. Check.
Feel the door for heat one more time, open it and stick my head out. Check.
The floor is full of smoke!
Look left. Good to go that way. Check.
Look right. Some guy has a couple of fire extinguishers in hand and is battling a bright orange glow coming from an open door. Check. And…
I exit post haste, close my door behind me and head left down the stairs and out the fucking door. Check.