Sunday, April 25, 2004

post fire adventures

Hmm. It seems that when I don't talk politics I don't have much to talk about. There's probably a lesson in that. One that I could ferret out if I cared. But instead, let me regale you with a story about the post-fire events in my apartment complex. Those of us on the effected floor were called to a meeting so they could tell us that we would have to all move out for a two to five days (read "eight days") while asbestos was removed from the premises. Bummer. No wait! They provided hotel rooms for us for free. Cool. Except, we wouldn't be able to cook in our rooms and would have to eat all meals out. Bummer. No wait! They provided us money for meals. Cool.

OK, I could go on but I'm getting bored with the format. It was done to death on Hee Haw anyway. Besides that, it would get increasingly dishonest, as when I implied that having to eat out every meal would actually effect my lifestyle in any way. Stove? What do I need a stove for? I can make instant coffee in the microwave.

They told us who started the fire. It was a woman who lived in the apartment with her husband and two small kids. She was boiling oil on the stove and had to go help one of her kids in the bathroom and, well things went bad. This is an immigrant family who probably didn't have much to begin with and lost everything in the fire. They didn't have any insurance.

So one a**hole at the meeting raised his hand and wanted the name and address of the woman who started the fire so he could sue her for damages. It seems he had to get a couple of suits dry-cleaned because they smelled like smoke. I had a negative reaction to his callousness and I'm afraid it slipped a little when I suggested that we get back to the business of the meeting and he could be an a**hole on his own time. I shouldn't have done that and I had to apologize after the meeting, but I couldn't help pointing out that I hadn't seen him outside during the fire crying because he had lost everything like the woman was doing. What an a**hole.

By contrast, the guy who lived right next door to the woman who started the fire also lost darn-near everything. He's retired, so his chances of recovery are considerably less. He was pleasant, uncomplaining, and generally a great guy about it. Funny thing. I think it's the same guy you can hear occasionally in the hallway shouting obscenities in rage at his TV or some imaginary person. You never can tell.Of course, I've been known to shout the occasional obscenity in rage at the ****** moron who is in the passing lane with no intention of passing anyone, and I'm basically a sweet guy.

Well, I spent a week in a nice hotel. Lost my phone charger and the defogger I use in my swim goggles. Found the phone charger eventually. The defogger is replaceable, but I expect to sit on it some day. Fried a pair of underwear, but that's a different story. One you don't want to read. I'll probably write it up this week but if I get enough requests not to post it, I'll let it pass.

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