What starts with ‘F’ and ends with ‘UCK?’

Firetruck, of course!


It’s Monday morning.  Mondays are pretty tough for me due to my three (sometimes four, if it’s Halloween weekend) consecutive nights of binge drinking.  But this Monday morning was different.  You see, I didn’t have to wake up for anything.  My first class is at 1:55pm and I had NOTHING else to do.  So I didn’t set an alarm.

At about 10:17am, just as I am dreaming about eating chocolate covered strawberries with Barack Obama, AN ALARM GOES OFF.  But not just any alarm.  THE FIRE ALARM.

Okay, so I finally haul my ass out of bed and scamper down the stairs.  And this is what I see:

1. Smoke billowing out of the hallway and out the front door

2. A couple other bleary-eyed sorority girls in their jammies

3. Some other, more awake, sorority girls (who I immediately pinned as suspects for starting the fire)

4. One charred (literally black) bagel

5. Bits of watermelon scattered in front of the house (?)

6. 4 firetrucks

7. One ambulance

Before I go on, it is imperative that I tell you about George.  George is the bus driver for the “Redstone Express” (one of the on-campus buses here at UVM).  There’s a stop sign outside our sorority house, so obviously the Redstone Express stops in front of our house about….. oh, I dont know, a million times a day.  And George, who drives the Redstone Express pretty much 24/7,  LOVES the ladies in my sorority.  So he used to stop at the stop sign and see if any of us were waiting for a ride or wanted to get off the bus at that time.  But our love affair with George has recently gotten so serious that he will stop the bus and pick us up WHEREVER WE ARE, wherever he sees us.  Whether it’s in the middle of a busy intersection, on a street that his bus route normally doesn’t take, etc.  It’s gotten so bad that we heard rumors that he got a “firm talking to” by his supervisor.  Eek.

So anyway, during all this, OBVIOUSLY George and the Redstone Express stop in front of the house to check out the scene and make sure everything’s okay. We screamed to each other over the fire alarm, which is now blowing my ear drums out regardless that I’m outside the house.


Sinds: George, the fire alarm is going off!


Sinds: (thumbs up sign)

That’s pretty much the extent of all our conversations.  However, it seems that this time George wasn’t too far off.  See the instigator of the fire (and the reason for the charred bagel) was our friend BRETT.  Brett burned her damn bagel in the toaster oven!  Are we serious??????  Ugh.  So anyway, the firemen (who weren’t even that good looking, WTF) come skipping into our house with their smoke masks and those SCUBA diving tank things on their backs.  They point to the carred bagel and even giggle a little.  This isn’t funny guys.  It’s FUCKING 10 IN THE MORNING ON A MONDAY AND I’M SUPPOSED TO BE ASLEEP.  Literally, like no.

And now I’m sitting in the dining room shivering my nips off because every window in the house is open to air out the smoke.  My life is a JOKE.



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