Smoke in My Window

The other night I fell asleep on my couch at 7 pm to the adorable contestants on Jeopardy! telling us about their hobbies and woke up at 10 pm to the hard drama of NYPD Blue. I went into the bathroom and smelled something strange, Burning rubber? Poison gas? A Mismanaged Boiler? I assumed it was the boiler and went about my business. I could smell the smell coming from the window. There's some sort of exhaust system for the boiler not far from me. A friend of mine telephoned me, whom I shall call Atomic Girl, and as I was talking to her a whisp os smoke crawled into my apartment through the window. It was dark and fell to the floor then disappeared. I told Atomic Girl. I wanted to ignore it as a fluke. Atomic Girl insisted I call my super. I hung up and got my act together to go into the lobby and look for the super's phone number. But as I was doing so there was no more smell and no more smoke. Perhaps whatever had been causing the smell had burned off? My phone rang again it was my friend whom I shall call, Red Magic. I chatted with Red Magic a puff of white smoke crawled into my apartment. I decided it was time to call the super. I got my cell phone and went outside to get the number that's posted in another building. As I went outside a woman was on the sidewalk screaming up at another woman on the third floor. She had one eye and was screaming about a smell. I told her I smelled something in my apartment too. "My apartment smells like dead rats!" She said. I mentioned that I had seen some smoke. She started screaming at the woman on the third floor to call 911. I didn't want to call 911. I suggested maybe we should try the super. I noticed the super's workshop door was open. We both went down. The lights were on. My new friend yelled "Hello!" around six or seven times. Nobody answered. There was smoke. "I've had a couple beers but you see smoke don't you?" she said.

We then went to the super's apartment and talked to his wife through a metal cage door. The woman complained about the smell of dead rats and smoke. The wife insisted they were presently working on the boiler. End of story.

As we walked back to our apartments in the building. She told me her name and I told her I was Jeremiah. Then the woman with one eye and a couple beers in her said to me, "You a handsome man."

In other news, I haven't heard as much from the mice since the smell and the smoke. I did notice that at some point the mice had gotten into a bag of flour. Hopefully their days are numbered.