Just about a year ago, my upstairs neighbor accidentally started a fire in his unit a couple of floors above me. That set off the sprinklers, and the consequent torrent pretty much destroyed my apartment. I ended up relocating three times before settling down at pad #3, where I currently abide.
And recently, one of my new neighbors apparently thought he was possessed, and did the old “exorcism by fire” routine. Luckily, my damages are minimal — a busted door (firefighters, when evacuating a building, apparently follow the “knock once with a hand, then knock with an axe” philosophy, and I really can’t say I blame them) and, somehow, a really, really battered internet connection.
I was on my way to a business meeting at the time, so I wasn’t there to answer the first knock. And Mr. Duckie was firmly ensconced in his rolling home, secured to my dashboard, so he was never in any danger.
I have no idea how they’re connected, or even if they are, but that’s how things stand here in West Nowhere, New Hampshire…
