So my clothes smell like smoke from the route this morning and I'm flying out tomorrow and don't really have time to wash them. Poo. One last route before vacation and something just had to happen!
So it's 5am and I'm driving around with the husband throwing bricks at houses (well, Sunday papers, so same diff) when I drive past a house and hear a fire alarm and smell smoke.
Me: "Did you hear that?"
Hubs: "Hear what?"
Me: "I thought I heard a fire alarm back there. Think I smelled smoke, too."
Hubs: "I smell pancakes."
Me: "What...how the hell are you smelling pancakes?!?"
So I turn the radio off and turn around and we slowly go down the street so Hubs can here. Sure enough, there's an alarm and a smokey smell pervading the air.
Hubs: "I can't tell which house it's coming from."
Me: "It's that one, there. The lights are on; maybe someone's awake. We should probably check."
I park, and as I get near the house I can hear music blaring in addition to the fire alarm (I'm guessing the neighbors stuffed in their earplugs hours ago.) The lights are on and the window is open, so I shout "Is everything okay in there?"
No response. I knocked on the door. No response. I look inside again. I don't see flames, but there's definitely smoke. And, oh look, there's a person passed out on the couch with what looks like a bottle of booze. Fabulous.
So I call 911 and give the fire department all the info I can. I bang on the window to see if I can rouse the guy when I notice it looks like a back door is open.
So I told Hubs to stay upfront and watch for EMS while I headed around back. There was a gate, and then a sort of workshop, and inside the workshop was the door I had seen.
The smoke seemed even thicker than it looked from the outside. That stuff stings your eyes right there. I went over to the guy and noticed that it was actually a clear pyrex measuring cup he was clutching. I grabbed his shoe and gave it a good shake. He tried kicking me away and opened one eye.
Me: "Hey man, I think your house might be burning down. You need to get up."
He shoed me away and promptly returned to his passed out state.
I went back outside, since he'd given a fairly firm kick at me and would fight me if I tried to drag me out, and I wasn't going to attempt that unless I spotted flames, which I still hadn't. Also, it was tough to see and breathe in there. I remember the electrical fire we had in the breakroom at work, and that was only 1/10 the smoke thickness in this house!
I told Hubs what I discovered and he asked if I'd checked the stove. No...
So it was Hubby's turn to go in while I waited for EMS. He went in, went to the stove, and discovered a charred lump of what presumably was once food. He turned off the stove and then got out of the smoke.
That's right. Our dear passed out friend had apparently gotten himself shitfaced, decided to try and become a chef, and passed out mid-way (recall the measuring cup he had beside where he'd passed out).
At that point the fire department showed up. We told him we'd sourced the smoke and determined that the guy was still alive but incredibly inebriated. The firefighter practically rolled his eyes. We showed them how to get inside and left them to deal with it.
I do take some solace in the fact that no matter how bad my clothes smell, his house is going to smell way worse for weeks! Seriously, you could barely see the ceiling, there was so much haze hanging in there! For a flame-less fire, that thing really put out a lot!
I ended up meeting a few of my customers later and handing them their papers personally, since that set me back by a solid 20 minutes and they were awake and waiting by then.
So it's 5am and I'm driving around with the husband throwing bricks at houses (well, Sunday papers, so same diff) when I drive past a house and hear a fire alarm and smell smoke.
Me: "Did you hear that?"
Hubs: "Hear what?"
Me: "I thought I heard a fire alarm back there. Think I smelled smoke, too."
Hubs: "I smell pancakes."
Me: "What...how the hell are you smelling pancakes?!?"
So I turn the radio off and turn around and we slowly go down the street so Hubs can here. Sure enough, there's an alarm and a smokey smell pervading the air.
Hubs: "I can't tell which house it's coming from."
Me: "It's that one, there. The lights are on; maybe someone's awake. We should probably check."
I park, and as I get near the house I can hear music blaring in addition to the fire alarm (I'm guessing the neighbors stuffed in their earplugs hours ago.) The lights are on and the window is open, so I shout "Is everything okay in there?"
No response. I knocked on the door. No response. I look inside again. I don't see flames, but there's definitely smoke. And, oh look, there's a person passed out on the couch with what looks like a bottle of booze. Fabulous.
So I call 911 and give the fire department all the info I can. I bang on the window to see if I can rouse the guy when I notice it looks like a back door is open.
So I told Hubs to stay upfront and watch for EMS while I headed around back. There was a gate, and then a sort of workshop, and inside the workshop was the door I had seen.
The smoke seemed even thicker than it looked from the outside. That stuff stings your eyes right there. I went over to the guy and noticed that it was actually a clear pyrex measuring cup he was clutching. I grabbed his shoe and gave it a good shake. He tried kicking me away and opened one eye.
Me: "Hey man, I think your house might be burning down. You need to get up."
He shoed me away and promptly returned to his passed out state.
I went back outside, since he'd given a fairly firm kick at me and would fight me if I tried to drag me out, and I wasn't going to attempt that unless I spotted flames, which I still hadn't. Also, it was tough to see and breathe in there. I remember the electrical fire we had in the breakroom at work, and that was only 1/10 the smoke thickness in this house!
I told Hubs what I discovered and he asked if I'd checked the stove. No...
So it was Hubby's turn to go in while I waited for EMS. He went in, went to the stove, and discovered a charred lump of what presumably was once food. He turned off the stove and then got out of the smoke.
That's right. Our dear passed out friend had apparently gotten himself shitfaced, decided to try and become a chef, and passed out mid-way (recall the measuring cup he had beside where he'd passed out).
At that point the fire department showed up. We told him we'd sourced the smoke and determined that the guy was still alive but incredibly inebriated. The firefighter practically rolled his eyes. We showed them how to get inside and left them to deal with it.
I do take some solace in the fact that no matter how bad my clothes smell, his house is going to smell way worse for weeks! Seriously, you could barely see the ceiling, there was so much haze hanging in there! For a flame-less fire, that thing really put out a lot!
I ended up meeting a few of my customers later and handing them their papers personally, since that set me back by a solid 20 minutes and they were awake and waiting by then.
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