sparkler's notes

I have a thing for firemen; I know lots of women do. And the ones that don’t probably dig doctors, one could claim that I do too. My reaction to a man in scrubs is not, “Let me help you with that simple drawstring”, it is more like “Eewwee, take those germy things off and shower up”. All right, all right, so the end result is nakedness but the first reaction is still different. Back to the firemen. My fetish may have started in college, after getting stuck in the dorm elevator between floors 2 and 3. Handsome firemen were called to rescue us from our entrapped state. Or it may have started to with rather humorous blind date in high school with a future firefighter. However it began, I have become hooked on firemen and their communal cooking ways. Until last week.

It was a typical afternoon at work, then the fire alarm went off. This was the first time in over 2 years that I had heard this alarm. My boss, coworkers and I calmly evacuated, making our slow decent down a crowded staircase. We stood outside with the other people milling about. It was an awkward time; it wasn’t a drill, yet no one seemed to know what had caused the alarm to go off. Finally the fire truck arrived. I like fire trucks a lot too since they are big, red, shiny, and they bring firemen. Yes, it’s like the Pavlov's dogs thing. At this point I even turn to someone and say, “At least there will be cute firemen”. The next moment what emerges off the fire truck? Not at the young, tall, muscular, dark haired, chiseled face, first responder wearing the navy blue uniform; that I was anxiously anticipating. An old, short, slightly overweight balding man climbed down off the truck. I mean don’t you need to submit your headshots to get into the fire academy? What happened with this one? Did he not age well? That still didn’t account for the height. I rationalized that he was super-smart or someone related got him the job. In any case, in one afternoon, one man, has tainted my fantasies forever.