Sunday, December 07, 2008

don't smoke in bed.

I took this photo a few years ago when French Panic and I lived apart for 10 months or so. She was living in a smallish apartment in the same neighbourhood that we live in now. Because she was a graduate student, she had a friend find the most affordable apartment possible in a nice area.

That was how she came to live in Chateau Clark.

It was not much of a Chateau.

I visited twice. The police and/or fire department showed up on both visits.

I took this picture during my surprise summer visit. We were woken early in the morning by the fire alarm. French said sleepily not to worry, the alarm went off all the time. But I smelled smoke.

I looked through the peep whole to see a scrawny man with a small and very wet dog under his arm and a mattress being dragged behind him, cursing in french the whole way down the stairs.

From the shape and state of the mattress it was obvious that the idiot had fallen asleep next to his dog with a smoke still in his mouth. Hence, the lamest of fires.

French Panic and I watched all the excitement from the balcony. The one fireman doing the work seems to not even be in uniform. The other guys did things too, I just caught them standing around and laughing at the stupidity of the fire.


french panic said...

ah. memories. lighting the corners of my mind. misty smoke-filled memories, of my crazy crackhead freakshow apartment building. Maybe that building was why it took me so damn long to warm up to the "charms" of Montreal.

Kate said...

Ouvrez la porte c'est les polices. This place is a legend. Our landlord was on parole, he lost my bike and then stole me a new one, had an accident and sawed the tops of his fingers off... the next door neighbour who worked as an exotic dancer/construction worker. The weird guy down the hall who uttered the words to me "You just think I'm weird because you saw me trying to break into the Dep." You can't make this stuff up...