Montreal has more fires than anywhere I’ve ever lived. I have had a ton of people comment that it’s probably due to Montreal being an old city and that there are likely old wires, etc… but I’ve lived in old parts of Europe. Twice. There was never anything remotely close to the number of fires and extent of damage. It’s unreal.
I have my own theories on this topic but I won’t get into it at this time. All I know is that I’ve rented in two apartment buildings and there have been small, contained fires in each of them. I’ve been very lucky but this is why I insist on insurance.
The fire in my previous building happened one summer evening when I was out with friends. It was small and was dealt with so swiftly that I didn’t even know it had happened until I received a letter from my landlord a couple of days later.
The fire in my current building had about the same extent of damage but I was home and less than pleased with how it all went down.
Last Friday, I arrived home from work feeling horrible. I had acquired some kind of a virus from one of the kids and was beyond congested. I promptly threw on my pjs, curled up in a blanket and snuggled up with my ass groove on the couch. It was exactly what I needed after a long day.
After a few (okay, many) hours of watching favorite shows online, I decided it was time to move to my other ass groove in my bed. Knowing me and my need for solid sleep when I’m unwell, I loaded up on Neo Citran before tucking myself in and promptly fell into a chemical-induced slumber. Glorious.
03h25: An alarm starts ringing. In my groggy sickness/drug haze, I start mashing my alarm clock thinking, “WTF. It’s the weekend. This is BS.” A few seconds later, I realize it’s the fire alarm going off. I jump out of bed, start to go for the door and then realize that I sleep in my birthday suit, so some sort of covering is necessary. In a mad scramble, I find my pjs and a hoodie so I put them on.
03h27: There’s someone pounding at my door. Still unsure of where my face is (yes, cold medication gets me high as a kite), I answer the door with a confused expression. I’m asked if the fire is in my place, I say no. I can see smoke filling the corridor, so I decide it’s time to evacuate.
03h28: I’ve got my jacket on with keys, cell phone and external hard drive jammed into my pockets. I’m staring blankly at my laptop wondering if I should grab it too because I can’t remember when I backed it up last. I decide against it and start to leave. When I open my apartment door, I realize that everyone in the hallway is in jeans. I look down at my flannel birdie/heart pjs (which I wear constantly – kudos to my sister for a great Xmas gift) and decide that if the building burns down and takes all my clothes, that I would like to have something other than cutiepie pjs to go shopping for new stuff in (sorry Shar!). I run back to my bedroom, throw on a pair of cords and return back to the corridor.
03h29: The alarm shuts off while I’m locking my apartment door (I really shouldn’t take cold medication). The superintendent calls out that we don’t need to evacuate, the fire is out. I open my door and start to go back in, hearing behind me, “Yeah, that one next to the elevator. She fell asleep while she was cooking. Stupid [expletive deleted]“ (Ironically, the person who said this was the female counterpart of the loud sexcapade that woke me up the following night)
03h30: I sit back down on the ass groove in my couch. Still sort of dressed, wearing my jacket with bulging pockets and a continued expression of confusion on my face. I realize that had we been evacuated, I would have no ID, money or means of getting money as I had left my wallet behind. I start to process how I can turn this whole fiasco into a witty but biting FB status update because, well, that’s what I do.
03h38: FB status is posted. Time to go back to bed.
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The good news is that the scorched smell finally disappeared yesterday. Instead, it was replaced with something that smelled much like Corn Pops. The new scent was so delicious, that I returned back to my pad and scarfed down a huge bowl of cereal… at 20h45.
Yeah… I’m a Rockstar and you know it.
