So today I heard someone’s fire alarm going off. In another apartment on my floor.
I’m realizing that my default is snarky detachment of Seinfeldian proportions, saying “That’s a shame” as I just observe.
Ok ok not that bad, but I still let it go a couple minutes before….
I SWUNG INTO ACTION. It wasn’t stopping. Using my keen hearing I went to the apartment that it was coming out of.
I smelled no smoke but still someone may need help.
Knock knock knock.
A short old Italian(?) lady opens up.
Sidenote: I’m a bad floor resident. I don’t know anybody here well at all- never been inside anyone’s apt in 5 years, I don’t know people’s names that I see every day though I know their dogs’ names, never had a beer with anyone, never borrowed even one cup of sugar.
Back to the story: The possibly Italian old lady opens up, and she looks ZERO familiar. Zilch. I thought I knew everyone on the floor by face at lest. Huh…
Anyhoo… I smelled burnt food. Hence the fire alarm. Sure. I took a dish towel and waved furiously until the alarm stopped beeping.
Am I an honorary fire fighter now? Should I have my own calendar?
Her name is Helen. Helen was very appreciative of the stranger coming to her aid. She looks like a person that always has sugar in her kitchen.