a Laughing Matter?

This recalled memory had me laughing just now.

I was living in a studio apartment in Elmhurst, Queens, NY.,
placed a saucepan of chicken wings in water on the range to boil,
then visited a friend one floor down.
An hour or so later she asked, “What’s going on?”
We ran to the window and saw billows of smoke
pouring out of an upper floor apartment.
I thought, ‘Oh shit, my chicken’. I ran up stairs.
The firemen were already in my apartment
and had extinguished the burning pot.
The apartment was filled with smoke.
The strong acrid smell of burnt food was everywhere.
They had also opened all the windows.

That wasn’t the embarrassing part.

At that time I was an unconscious and absolute nut job.
Empty soup and bean cans were everywhere,
on the floor. The trash bin overflowed.
The kitchen sink was full of dishes.
Clothes were strewn all over.

As they were leaving, I asked one of them
“How much will this cost?”

“Nothing. Your taxes pay for this.”

f