Why I'm Not Asleep

Well, it's official--something in our apartment building was on fire.
Now it's not.

God bless the FDNY.

So, it's 1:15 AM, and I hear a smoke alarm going off in one of the other apartments; the alarms in our building are characteristically sensitive, so this is usual, though annoying.

I pull the covers over my head to muffle the noise. The beep is persistent, though less cutting.

1:25, and the alarm is STILL going off. I get up, and shut the bedroom door.

1:30. Hmmm...maybe there's a problem?

1:32. I put on pants and wander up stairs. I don't see any smoke, but, as I get close to the 4th floor, I start to smell the faintest whiffs of it.

1:35, and I am back in our apartment recruiting Des and her sniffer. A few moments later, Des confirms that the hallway smells, "stinky." This is not helpful--our hallways are often stinky.
Des reconsiders, and then decides that hallway is in fact, "stinkier than normal."

1:38, a neighbor emerges from the OTHER 4th floor apartment (the one that is not on fire), and we take turns pounding on the suspect door and ringing the door bell.

1:40, while our upstairs neighbor continues to pound on the door, I call 9-1-1 and enlist the help of our local firefighters.

1:42, the local FDNY shows up (damn that was fast! I barely had time to get downstairs). A four man team walks up, bangs on the door and rings the door bell for another two or three minutes, the ever-beeping alarm continuing its persistent monophonic tune, and then decide to take action.

1:45, the FDNY breaks down my neighbor's door. They work on it for about two or three minutes, alternating with axes and prybars ("Damn, that's a good lock" our non-fire neighbor Calvin says) before it happens.

1:48, a woman, from inside the apartment that is on fire, mind you, says, "Who is it?" Her door is cracked inward and her lock is busted up, and, after thirty-three minutes of smoke alarms alarming, bells ringing, and Firefighters beating the living shit out of her door, she is awake and aware. And, she asks, "Who is it?"

Wow.

The fire fighters, having already beaten her door to the point where only a crowbar will open it, ask her to step back. "I'll get it!" she insists. "You can't get it, it's broken," they reply.

1:53 the door swings open. The house is full of white smoke. The woman is nowhere to be seen, though presumably not dead. "Thank God for fire detectors," the fireman says, and then he ushers us off to our respective homes.

So now my hallway is full of smoke. Toxic white smoke (read: not weed, trust me). And I can't sleep.

And now you know why.