Burning out the filth

Entry #17
When driving through downtown this lunchtime on the way to a Mega-Lo-Supermarket in Lacey what won’t be named, I noticed the Apex grocery store, purveyor of fine pornographic materials and cheap beer was fully engulfed in flames with the OFD responding in full force to fight the fire.

After deciding that trying to negotiate the detour and continue on to Lacey was likely less enjoyable that checking out the flaming Olympia landmark, I decided to drive through the alley to the hated Ralph’s Thriftway, and parked on State in order to get a closer look.

The building was surrounded by a large amount of smoke, making the building visible from only one angle, by the USPS mailboxes near the 4th Ave entrance to Ralph’s. There were only two firemen actually fighting the fire that were visible from the angle Dave and I were viewing from, which was also the spot where several questionable people had gathered to watch the excitement. They didn’t seem much concerning with the attached house, which wasn’t burning, but it seemed they could be watering down the carport, just in case.

Assembled to watch the spectacle, there were a few white trash families, with offspring running as close to the police line as they could, inhaling the noxious fumes. There was also a few radically pierced and tattooed “biker dykes” nearby, who left shortly before the old neon sign, so much a fixture of the establisment, fell from the top to the entranceway to the ground below. There were a few goth types, and a strange looking man wearing cowboy boots, a small “cowboy-ish” straw hat, who had the most remarkable protruding proboscis.

A Ralph’s employee came out, to give away fresh oranges to the emergency workers, and one policeman was seen strutting as if he were “the cock of the walk” so to speak, after being given his portion of this small offering of fruit.

We left after watching for a few minutes, as the wind kept shifting and sending smoke near the crowd, so we thought it would be prudent to vacate. We’d seen enough anyway. At least we can say we were there.

A boring Monday it was not. . . .


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