8.25.2010

NSFW

In a chat I was reading on washingtonpost.com, a new song was brought to my attention. It's by Cee-Lo from Gnarls Barkley and it's called "F*ck You." Apparently I'm way behind because this went viral last week and I missed it, but now I've caught on, and I must admit, that though this song/video is in no way safe for work, I kinda like it. It's a catchy little ditty. Check it for yourself.

Anyway, what I really wanted to write about is this: I was at a stoplight earlier today and several firetrucks rushed by. I started thinking about something that happened several years ago. It's not entertainment, but it's entertaining. To me anyway.

So, the day before we were supposed to leave town for a trip, I was hanging out with my sister in DC. Before we left her apartment, she had some trash to get rid of and headed to the trash chute. In throwing her trash away, she accidentally threw her purse down the chute with it. ACK! We go to the front desk, where the woman was no help. She (slowly) walked with us to the trash room to see if we could access the dumpster, but the chute fed right into it...there were no openings. (A note on this woman's movement: if a turtle was going with us, he would've gotten there first.) The woman refused to call the manager, and because it was the weekend, we couldn't call the trash company. It was Saturday, we were leaving town Sunday, and it was after 9/11, so my sister needed her ID to fly. Plus, by Monday, the purse would've been buried under all kinds of crap.

Deb's freakin' out and I'm trying to figure out what to do. We go back to her apartment and I came up with the brilliant idea that perhaps the fire department could help. They rescue cats out of trees, right? Why couldn't they rescue a purse from a trash dumpster? They were close by, and it was the only thing I could think of. So, I called the non-emergency number and explained the situation. The friendly woman on the phone discussed it with her supervisor, and they agreed to send someone over.

About 10 minutes later, I look out the window and see a HUGE ladder truck coming down my sister's street, lights flashing. Thank god they didn't have the siren on. This is a tiny street folks--cars park on both sides, and there is barely room for two cars to get by--often, only one can go at a time. So, here comes the ladder truck. We rush out to meet the firemen, and we see that they've brought six or seven people. Debbie or I said, "Okay, the trash room is this way." One of the guys said, "the trash room?" And then we realized they didn't know why they were sent to help. We explained the situation and the guy said, "We're here because you dropped your purse down the trash chute??" Deb and I sheepishly said, "yes." He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Come on, it's a slow day anyway." So, three of the guys come with us, while the others move the huge truck out of the street. When we get to the trash bin, one of the guys walks back a forth a couple of times and then went to the front of the bin and opened a door, and there's the trash. The door was right on the front--we could have done that ourselves!

I was so embarrassed. I started to reach in, but the guy told me to stop--he said the other guys would bring a pole rod so we didn't have to touch the trash. Sure enough, here come the rest of the guys with their pole. They asked what the purse looked like, and Deb described it--a small red purse. She added that the trash bag she threw with it was white with red handles. One of the guys goes digging around and finds a red purse. Believe it or not, it wasn't DEB's purse! It was another red purse. The guy digs some more, and then finds Deb's purse. No more trash had landed on it, so it was clean.

We thanked the guys profusely, and offered to buy them some pizza. They said they'd already eaten dinner, so we offered dessert. They said ice cream might be nice.

So, we walked to the little market and got 6 pints of ice cream -- all different flavors. Then we walked to the fire station. A couple of guys were hanging out in the front--none of them had come with the truck, but since we didn't have anyone's name, we gave the ice cream to them. As we turned to walk away, one of the guys said, "Wait a minute. Are you the ones with the purse?" We turned around, and Deb said, "That was me." The guys just started rolling.

I can only imagine the scene when the guys who came to help went back to the station to tell the story. Deb and I just had to laugh along with them.

1 comment:

Kerri said...

how weird that there was another red purse in there?!! wow! i cannot believe how nice they were about that. so funny. i can only imagine how funny you must have felt once the huge fire truck with so many firemen in it came down the street to rescue the purse!!!