Ok, at 5:22 am, I hear the sirens of fire trucks. 1, then 2, then 3…. But they are not passing by the complex. Their sirens stopped here. Great, another emergency?

I’m thinking maybe there’s a heart attack or stroke in the building, as many often happen in the early AM, says the nurse in me. But they don’t bring out 3 fire trucks for that unless something else is happening. Like when the dumpster was on fire.  

Putting on a t-shirt, I step out and smell smoke, electrical at that. Now I’m worried. Whose unit? Please God, don’t be in my building.  Damn it, I need a bug-out bag.

So, like a good spectator,  I follow the flashing lights to the end of my breezeway and see my neighbor, whom I’ve never met before. She was trying to find out what was happening, too. We walked farther to the next building, “H.” I’m in” D”, Phew, not my building.  Although “D” may stand for dumb. The smell gets stronger, and you can see smoke and hear a fire alarm going off.  The three firetrucks took over the entire parking lot.

I look up and see a fire truck ladder leaning against the roof.  Uh oh. is the roof on fire?  5 or 6 firefighters were going in and out of a 2nd-floor condo, which incidentally was right above where dead guy was found, but I digress. What’s with the H building?  H for horrors?

Fire hoses snaked out of the unit, and I heard them spraying. Well, something was really on fire. It didn’t take too long, maybe 45 minutes in all and the roof was ok.  They then came out and took their helmets off. Thank goodness it’s a cool morning since they were in full gear. Apparently, no one was hurt.

Funny thing is, there was a fire on the 2nd floor across the street at an old apartment complex just 5 days ago, where the roof caved in over there. That one had 5 fire trucks, 6 police cars, and helicopters overhead. I guess this one isn’t big enough for all that hub bub.

Now there is a fire here. Where I live. This is too close for comfort.

This place was built in 1980;  the wires are not good. This makes me pause, hmmmm

Good thing I climb stairs for exercise, I may need my legs to get out of here at lightning speed. I think a bug-out bag and a fire extinguisher might be in order.

Naked psychotic screaming man,  dead guy rotting in his condo, an old lady who drove through the wall, and bursting frozen pipes. All since I moved in 18 months ago. That’s an emergency every 4 months. Wtf?  Im in 911 alley here since moving in.

The police and firefighters must really know this place, too.  They probably roll their eyes when the operator says “Guess which condos it is, folks? And they all know it: ”Casa Blanca” home of disasters, dead people, and the demented.

They probably have a nickname for this complex too.  Like Casa Crazy, Casa  Chaotic, or some such thing. Either way, live here at your own discretion. I’d better check if I have renters’ insurance with a fire add-on.

What’s in your bug-out bag?

Mine will have the essentials: my passport, medications, and makeup. Don’t laugh, makeup is expensive.  And of course my bubbly…..never know if you need a reason to celebrate, like surviving something at Casa Crazy.

Somewhere in Texas

Making a bug-out bag

Buying a home fire extinguisher.

Wondering when’s the next disaster