Hostel Fire

Hey, guess what happened to me tonight? Well, it’s Friday night and the bar was blasting techno music up front which, believe it or not, is not really my scene. So I was sitting toward the back of the hostel, by myself, working on my computer, when I got a whiff of smoke. Then it was more than a whiff. It was bad, and it was close. I went looking and sure enough, about 20 feet away, there was a full-fledged fire in the kitchen, the flames jumping up about 3 feet and plainly visible through the window. I went sprinting toward the front, trying to remember the Spanish word for fire. Caliente? Nope, that isn’t it. Ah screw it, English would have to do. I said “Fire” several times loudly and firmly and everyone got the idea pretty quickly. The staff followed me back with fire extinguishers (one of which actually worked), and they put it out. Then it flared back up and they really laid it on. That did the trick. It looks like it was an electrical short that caught some grease. Presto, your classic kitchen fire. But here’s the thing that gets me. I just saved a good chunk of the hostel  from going up in flames. There was no one else back there and plenty of fuel to feed the fire. Don’t you think someone should have comp’ed me a beer? I know, I shouldn’t expect a reward, but still, a beer? No one? Grrr. I didn’t have my camera with me, so I didn’t even get any pictures out of the experience. Sigh.
By the way, it’s “fuego”, in case you find yourself in a similar situation.

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