So I came home two nights ago and the power was out.

What fresh hell is this? I wondered.

There were trucks from the electric company blocking the street. Flashing their little lights. Dropping their little men down the big hole in the street.

Maybe the bats have been chewing on the wires.

So on the second floor landing, the neighbors were having a summit conference.

"Were you here for the fire?" they asked.

"Fire?" I was alarmed (tee hee).

"The building transformer in the street caught on fire. They evacuated the building. We were worried you were still inside."

"I wasn't." I had been with The Suz at "Joe's" house. More specifically the bar down the street from "Joe's" house, where she was trying to sell me an Irish car that I really didn't want to drive.

"Nice to know they've installed the new fire alarm system," Downstairs Neighbor Girl said. Sarcasm is a language I speak fluently.

There's no new fire alarm system. There are wires sticking out of the walls and there are holes in the ceilings where bats can get through, but there are no alarms.

These alarms should have been installed a year ago, when the Suz, bless her, set our kitchen on fire. But Ex-NotBoyfriend #4 says I'm not allowed to talk about it. God rest the Austin Powers Memorial Kitchen. Now it's just green again.

So I stumbled in the dark. I lit some candles.

It was really boring.