Saturday evening, we were eating dinner (cream of broccoli soup for my healing gums) and watching “The Hunted” when the fire alarm started ringing. After a bit of debate as to whether should actually pay it attention, we paused the episode and got our keys, wallets, cellphones, and cat (in carrier) and hurried calmly out, locking the door behind us. En route, we found the first-floor fire alarm glass broken and lever pulled — and no smoke or any other evidence of fire.
We live right beside a fire house and two engines were already out front with firemen gearing up outside as other tenants gathered. It all turned out to be a false alarm, of course; I suspect some of the local whippersnappers thought they could entertain themselves with some hijinks — or perhaps were hoping that the panic would leave a few doors unlocked for some easy access to valuables. In any case, the alarm was reset, the annoyed tenants flowed back into the building, the cat calmed down, and we finished our dinner and Star Trek in peace.