So, apparently...

So there I was, knee deep.

It was 1 am on a Saturday morning, and I had just gotten in from a graduation dinner. I was going through my box-o-junk, you know that box that you have under your bed containing all those knick knacks that you only need once a year, looking for I-don't-what. What I found, however, was my creme brulee torch (don't judge me, I don't judge you). Sitting next to that was an aerosol bottle of body spray, because sometimes you like smelling like you are 14. If you are a woman reading this post, I'm guessing you haven't connected the two yet. If you are a guy, you've automatically thought "Flame thrower!!" Yes, that's what went through my head too.

The thing about this particular aerosol, is that it's sprayer was a bit defective, so instead of a fast single stream, it would sputter, creating flame clouds! It was awesome! And it scared the hell out of my roommates yappy dog! So why would I stop, right?

So, apparently, my smoke alarm responds to flames as well as smoke. Five minutes into feeling like a mighty God of hell and fire, this annoying, persistent beep killed off all of my fun, and the damn thing wouldn't stop despite the fact I had quit creating clouds of flame (or at least took it to the bathroom).

So, apparently, my smoke detector is wired to all the other detectors in my house, as I discovered when I moved my fire abilities to the lavatoire.

So, apparently, all the smoke detectors in my apartment are connected to all the other smoke detectors in the duplex. Something about collective safety or something like that. I figured this out when I hear people evacuating outside.

What do I do? Well, as many of you know, I'm sly like a fox. I take off my pants and shirt, throw on a bathrobe, mess up my hair, and walk outside rubbing my eyes, joining in with the chorus of "Who the hell is setting off smoke detectors at 1 am!?"