That was my Sunday morning. Who doesn't love to wake up to that?
Three fire trucks, a flock of firefighters, and a giant ladder were there to greet us. HOLY CRAP. Smoke was billowing out from Otto's Shrunken Head, a (creepy) tiki bar, next door. Yeah, it's a classy 'hood.
All I could think was thank goodness it wasn't my beloved Kennedy's Fried Chicken that was ablaze! (Although, I can imagine that would have smelled amazing.)
We weren't the only ones who had to evacuate. The vet clinic a few doors down had to bring out all of its four-legged residents. Awww.
Luckily The BFF and I had the wherewithal to throw on actual clothes vs. bathrobes and grab our purses so we could at least get something to eat since we were awake and downstairs. By the time we'd finished breakfast at a nearby diner (where, fun fact, I randomly saw Keanu Reeves shooting a movie a few weeks ago), they had the situation under control. Which was good since I enjoy having a home.
You might remember that earlier this spring, our block also caught on fire. We're pretty sure our awesome, new single mojo might have been the cause of that one, but we can't take credit for the most recent incident. Our mutual singledom is no longer a novelty with magical powers.
Anyway, when we were ready to go back upstairs, we realized one small problem. During those few minutes we were scampering around trying to find pants during the fire panic, we both managed to leave our keys inside.
Whoops.
Luckily our across the street, science experiment neighbors have a spare set just for these kinds of emergencies. You know, the ones that involve fires. Since those seem to happen a lot.
Ugh, I've been wanting some more excitement in my life, but this was not what I had in mind.
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