Today, after dinner, Daniel and I decided to go for a walk. It was hot in our apartment, and it was actually cooler outside than in. As soon as we stepped out of the house, we heard a fire truck. We turned our heads toward Park Avenue to watch it go by. Instead, it turned down our street. As it approached our house, it began to slow down. Cue Daniel and I standing on the curb with goofy (and confused) looks on our faces. The truck pulled up next to us, and the driver asked “Did you guys call about a lockout?” At least, that’s what I think he said. I was too busy having that moment of panic where I try to remember if I shut off the stove. After Daniel told them no they continued on, lights flashing and sirens wailing.
It was weird.