On Election Day

not the fucking fire alarm.

there's never actually a fire-- just an alarm. i figure there are sometimes fires, but in my experience with fire alarms they are only alarms and we mostly evacuate the building just to get away from the sound.

on election day this happened. i met a few neighbors i didn't know existed and wondered if they ever left their apartment. if they did, they'd have to have planned it very precisely in order not to run into me smoking or drinking on the stoop outside. i practically live there as a complimentary doorman and gentle security guard who will tickle your puppy or help you carry in laundry.

it's hard to live in our building without us meeting.

i guess in that way, i'm thankful for the fire alarm because they've always served as great bonding experiences.

"i didn't smell any smoke," one neighbor said.

i lit a cigarette as my roommate came tumbling out of the front door carrying a sack of marijuana, a champagne flute of martinelli's sparking apple cider, and his ipod touch.

"did anyone call the fire department?" he asked.

"well," my other roommate started, "the fire department is next door. do you think we need to call them? they can probably hear the alarm."

"yeah," i said, "but the alarm does say it won't call the department. maybe we still have to."

"we can't call the firemen from next door," a neighbor added.

i was surprised at how many neighbors i had never met and curious where all the neighbors i had met were.

"i'm gonna do it," i said, "i'll be back."

i never did think i'd find myself walking into a fire department to tell them about a potential fire next door-- but i never thought i would go to jail and that's happened, too (on election day as well. imagine that.)

"excuse me," i said, "but i think there's a fire next door..."

"we're closed," a lady said from behind a desk.

the fire department, conveniently enough, was where our district's polls were-- it's where we all went to vote. and they were, evidently, closed.

"no," i said, "there might be a fire next door. are there any firefighters available?"

"we're closed," she repeated, "we closed at 7pm."

"look," i said firmly, "i'm not trying to vote. i already voted. i'm trying to get help for my apartment which is currently, quite possibly, on fire."

"you'll have to knock on the firemen's door then."

i expected this process to be much easier.

by the time i was able to wrangle the firemen, and by the time they had put on 100% of their fire-safety gear, we turned the corner to find my upstairs neighbor running towards us.

"sorry!" she screamed, "sorry! it was me. i left bread in the oven and fell asleep."

"oh it would be you!" i shouted. i don't know what that meant exactly, but i think i was happy to know we didn't have a fire and happy to see a neighbor i actually knew. also, she works at hooters and there was a sort of "dumb blonde" correlation involved.

altogether, the experience was a neat one: i got to knock on the fire department's door for the first time in my life, i met some new neighbors, and nothing was burnt to the ground.

and then, at 3am, the fire alarm went off again.