where there's smoke...

Tonight we were planning to go to the night noodle market. I left work early (ie 5pm) and took the motorway and bridge route home - paying the toll - so that I could get there quickly. As I got out of the car in the underground car park, I said aloud to myself - gosh there's a strong smell of burning. As I said that - the sirens started in the car park. I headed into the building, and the fire alarms were going there too. I decided not to take the lift (elevator) to our floor, and exited the building. I walked round to the front of the apartment block, expecting to see a crowd of evacuees. No one was there, and I was concerned about Gus. I entered the building and could see a lot of smoke in the hallway. Our neighbour was just opening her door to leave, and we commented on the strong smell and obvious smoke. By now I was quite worried as to why Gus was not on his way out. Entering our apartment, I saw Gus in the bedroom - and told him he needed to leave immediately. Why - he asked? Cos the alarms are going off and there's smoke in the hallway.

At this point he says....I wonder if that's because I've burnt something on the stove.....

I went into the kitchen and lo and behold - on top of the stove is a saucepan, with blackened contents.....apparently it was meant to be a caramel sauce.

We exit the building, and join all the other householders who are beginning to stream down the emergency staircases. By now there are three types of alarm going - the sirens in the car park, the alarm in the building, and then the external sirens for all the five apartment blocks in our complex. It sounds like WW3 has come to Sydney.

2 fire engines arrive and 12 firemen disembark.

In full gear. Hazmat suits. Oxygen cylinders. And axes.

Axes........!

At this point, Gus somewhat sheepishly has to approach one of the firemen and admit that it might be our apartment that is the source of the problem. He leads 12 firemen into the apartment. (Now that's a line I never thought I'd write about Gus!)

Wow - great apartment, they say. Before taking one look at the saucepan. At which point, 11 of them turn around and leave. The boss stays behind, to cool down the pan, and check that Gus is ok. He is.

I have my suspicions that if one of the hot fireman had asked this question,. Gus would have fainted into his arms.
The alarms are swiched off and the firemen leave.

The apartment stinks. We abandon plans to go to the night noodle market, and decide to air the flat instead.

Throughout all this, I have struggled to stop myself laughing. Poor Gus is in a right state. His face when the firemen arrived was a picture. Especially when they took his name and a note of the apartment number. At some point, he will see the funny side of all this.

Because I can hardly type for laughing.