The Power Outage

When you live in a half-way-house (a.k.a. Admiral Manor Apartments), there are certain basic necessities that the sober folk must have to make it “one day at a time.” Such necessities include smokes, red bull, ramen noodles, public transportation, television, and rap music. The last two has something in common: they require electricity. So when the power went out at 5:30 on a Sunday night, I knew the “wagon” just got a little wobbly.

I was a little surprised when the T.V. suddenly went black. I thought we had blown a fuse or something because the kitchen light and microwave clock didn’t go off. But soon I knew it was more than just limited to our apartment. It took all of 45 seconds before the neighbors started hollering out their door.

“Hey, did anyone else lose power?”

“Uh, my T.V. just went off but my fridge is running!”

“My bathroom light works!”

“Oh I didn’t check my bathroom yet, I will go now!”

After about five minutes, the yelling died down. I had figured out that a hodge-podge of outlets had lost power throughout each apartment. It soon became apparent that those outlets were home to most of the television sets.

Soon doors began opening and I started hearing the pitter-patter of feet (or the dragging of flip flops). This was followed by the continuous flicking of cigarettes lighters and the smell of tobacco smoke wafting through my window. And that is when I started hearing the anxiety in their voices.

“How long you think it will be out?”

“The electric company has to come out and fix it tonight, right?”

“Man, what if we don’t have T.V. all night?”

This talking, pacing and smoking continued for the next three hours until the power was restored to all outlets in the complex. I didn’t hear much of what the neighbors said after that. I was too busy watching a movie on my television set. Instead of smoking and complaining, I pulled out the extension cord and plugged that TV into a working outlet. Duh.