Most Bizarre Occurence Of Life Thus Far

I left work early on Friday afternoon in order to go home to clean my apartment in preparation for my parents' visit.

I was, of course, a stress case. I'd hoped to be able to take a nap, but I couldn't sleep. It was oppressively hot, and I kept wondering "When will they be here?" I knew they were running late, but I had no idea how late they'd be.

Instead of taking a nap, I decided to clean. A lot. My parents would be very impressed! I swept, dusted, even wet-jetted the floors. It was at least 90 degrees on Friday afternoon and apparently my apartment gets really hot in the middle of the day. It was not fun, but this is what one does in preparation for parents' visit.

After finishing cleaning, I decided to unwind and hopefully cool off by playing some piano. I played for about five minutes and randomly looked over my shoulder and out the window.

I don't even know where to begin with this.

How do I describe what happened?

Outside my window was complete white. I couldn't see an inch outside the window. It was smoke billowing up, but it didn't smell like smoke. It was almost like being on an airplane in the clouds. Total whiteness.

First thought: "Hmmm. Sometimes my apartment gets really dusty during the day. Maybe the gas station, which is right below me, does some sort of weird cleaning during the day and that's what has been causing the dust?" Originally I'd thought that perhaps the dust was due to construction in the apartment above me, but maybe it was this phenomenon happening every afternoon.

The more I thought about it, the more I thought "No, this can't be normal. I can't see at all. I can't even see my fire escape and I am standing a cm away from it."

"Come to think of it, I can't really see in my apartment right now." My entire apartment started filling with whatever the smoke was. I was standing at the window, and could barely see my piano across the room.

I took off my glasses and realized that whatever it was had accumulated on them as well.

I thought "Something has to be on fire. Is my apartment on fire? But it doesn't smell like smoke! What could be on fire? Is it the fan? Is the fan on fire and the smoke is going outside?"

"Is this is a terrorist attack? Fuck! What if this is a chemical attack? FUCK!!!"

"Wait. No. This will pass."

"But what if this is chemical?"

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!?!?"

"Now I am inhaling this stuff. This can't be good. Whatever it is, it's not good. Maybe I shouldn't stick around for this."

I quickly shut the windows and turned the fan, which was blowing whatever it was into my apartment, to reverse so that hopefully it would start to blow whatever it was out of my apartment.

I washed my glasses quickly, grabbed my wallet, keys, and cell phone and left the apartment.

I then ran back in to get my camera.

I really had no idea what was going on. I didn't know where I was going to go. I just knew that it probably wasn't the best idea to be in my apartment.

I expected there to be mad pandemonium in my building, but nobody was running around.

I thought "What if its only outside my window? What the fuck?"

Then I thought better of it, and realized that probably nobody was home since it was the middle of the day.

It felt like Terminator 2. You know the scene where Linda Hamilton is having the nightmare about the future and everyone gets blown away and turns into ash? That's how I felt. I felt like grabbing my window and screaming "Nooooooo!" as the pedestrians who were on the street during whatever this was were blown to bits.

Nuclear winter.

There was no sky.

It was just white stuff.

Outside of my building a crowd had gathered and the dust had literally settled.

A man was getting into his car, which was covered in the stuff. I asked him if he knew what happened. He was laughing. His friend soon joined us, and informed me that the gas station clerk who worked behind the counter accidentally pressed the fire button.

The fire department was already there.



At first I didn't understand, but then it occurred to me that should a fire break out at a gas station, that would be a very bad scene for obvious reasons. It makes sense that they need to be able to put it out themselves. And fast.

Apparently some asshole accidentally backed into the freaking button and set off whatever system is in place to put out a gas fire of gigantic proportions. This caused the entire gas station, as well as like two surrounding blocks, to be covered in freaking sodium bicarbonate.

This is the ground surrounding the gas station:



The owner of this car was getting gas when this all happened:



They called an ambulance for his wife, who was 8 and a half months pregnant.

Here are some more photos from the gas station:





I was irate. I realized, then, that my entire apartment was going to be covered. COVERED. I made demands. I said "I don't think you understand, PEOPLE. MY PARENTS ARE COMING IN A FEW MINUTES!!! THEY ARE STAYING IN NYC, IN MY MICROSCOPIC APARTMENT, FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER AND I JUST FREAKING CLEANED AND NOW MY ENTIRE APARTMENT IS COVERED IN THIS SHIT!"

The manager was "on his way" for about an hour.

Nothing came of this.



I decided to go back into my apartment building. The windows in the stairwells were only open about half an inch each, and this is what the building looked like on the inside:







When I got back into my apartment, it was, indeed, covered in a layer of the stuff. Every single item I own. Everything. Each book. Each CD that was out. Each item hung on the wall. My parents were only about half an hour away (they actually got stuck in traffic for 2.5 hours but I was thrilled because had they not hit traffic they'd have been in my apartment when all of this happened). I went on damage control and swept and mopped what I could, rewashed all the dishes, sent D, who turned up shortly before my parents, to the laundromat with all of the sheets and bedding and towels, started to wipe off all of my hair products and books and everything else I had time for. Sweeping helped but now the stuff is in between all of the cracks in the newly renovated floor. Everything in my entertainment center is covered and I don't have the stamina to unplug everything and rewire everything and wash everything and blah.

In-fucking-furiating.

I didn't have the presence of mind to take photos in my apartment, because my main concern was getting the apartment in semi-presentable condition by the time my parents arrived. I did, however, take this photo of the fire escape outside my living room window, which is a good representation of the condition of the rest of my apartment:



My parents arrived and obviously I was a stress case. They arrived with enough luggage for 10 people to be on vacation for 10 days. It was chaos. I was so wound up and distressed and mortified. All I wanted to do was clean or relax or make more demands. I didn't want an army of people to deposit 43 pieces of luggage in 300 square feet of floor that was covered in dust. I hated that I had to be the person who was like "Can you take off your shoes before you walk into the apartment? I don't want you tracking that stuff all over the place."

I have a couple feelings about the timing of all of this:

1. If my parents weren't visiting, I'd not have been home for this and therefore my windows would have been shut.

2. If this had happened, like, five minutes sooner my computer would have been destroyed. It was sitting on the table in front of the fan while I downloaded music while I cleaned. I put it in my closet, which was the only place that was untouched by the dust because the door was closed, right before I started playing the piano.

3. If my parents hadn't been running late in the morning and hadn't therefore hit traffic, they would have been there for this and it would have been chaos. Mom most certainly would have thought it was terrorists and demanded hospitalization, and they'd have one more piece of data supporting their feeling that I should move back to MA. Not that they think I should move - they love NYC - but they'd like to have me home. I imagine had they experienced this they'd no longer be in love with NYC. Not to mention that both the couch and new air conditioner would probably have been destroyed.

4. But, what are the odds of this sort of freak occurrence happening right before your parents' visit that already has you extremely stressed out and right after you just cleaned your apartment way too thoroughly?

I guess it worked out for the best, but consequently I had an extremely stressful weekend during which all I wanted to do was rid my apartment of whatever sodium bicarbonate residue I could but during which I instead dragged my parents, who again didn't want to walk anywhere, around the city. And, to make matters worse, when we (five of us in my small apartment - two parents, Brother, D and myself) were in my apartment, we couldn't open any of the windows because the fire escape was covered with the stuff and I didn't want it to blow in anymore.

Ugh.

I gave my photos to the super so that they could submit an insurance claim to have the building cleaned. I am hoping that they will refund me for the laundry and will pay to have my floors cleaned. I really shouldn't have to do that.

I really shouldn't have had to do anything. My super said "Did you take pictures of your apartment? We can have someone come in and clean it." "No, I already cleaned it because MY PARENTS ARE GOING TO BE HERE IN TEN MINUTES AHHHHHHH!" It's not like you can wait for this sort of thing. The place was covered. Unliveable.

Ridiculous.

Various firemen said things like "You had a fan on? Why? Why don't you have an air conditioner?" and "If you had an air conditioner, you wouldn't have blown that stuff in" and "Yeah, but if she had an air conditioner it might have been destroyed" and "You should get the gas station insurance to pay to put your folks up in the Waldorf." I got yelled at by some lady in the gas station for "taking photos on the premises." Fuck off, lady. It's the LEAST I am going to do since my apartment is covered in this shit because some stupid employee of yours doesn't know how to lean correctly.

Only in NYC, folks.

I am so getting renter's insurance tomorrow.

What a stressful weekend.