Friday, September 01, 2006

ladymissmarquise gets rescued by firemen

Now this is a fantasy I have had for some time, as we all know that LMM has a certain weakening of the knees and peculiar feeling in her loins when the subject of firemen come up.

So you would think then, that being rescued by two of Vancouver's finest would leave this little lady breathless with anticipation, swooning with unrequited desire?

Well, erm. No. I'm afraid not.

It all started out fairly innocently enough. I get in the lift, shopping bags laden with wine and other treats as the divine Amelia was en route back from a 3 week holiday in Italy and therefore needed to be greeted accordingly, and as this is one of those new fancy spancy Vancouver buildings where security is as tight as a... well, you understand, there is all that nonsense of the fob. Fob to front door. In. Fob to elevator. Open. Fob to floor number. Up. And so on and so forth.

Except for that small jolt and then shudder.

No big deal, I think.

Followed by an even larger jolt and noisier shudder. Followed by the lift stopping. And no amount of fob to floor number'ing would make that damned lift move.

I remain calm. I am, after all, a Lady.

Press the little *Help* button and calmly and politely tell them where I am and why I am there.

"Okay Miss Marquise, we'll send someone round to come and let you out."

And so I calmly assess the situation, all the while controlling the urge to let that little part of my brain that is slowly but surely freaking the fuck out "Ohmgoodgodwearestuckinalift...andIhaveseenMissionImpossible...
andwemayeithercareentoourdeath...andweonlyjustgotthenewlaptopwelovesomuch
isthispunishmentforlovingthemactoomuch...
orweshallendupcarreeningskywayrsandimpaleourselvesasemilioestevezonthecablesaboveus!!!"
pass over into the dark side.

And so I sit myself down. And as the story gets a bit dull for the next 20 minutes as all I do is sit and text the Nurse, and Gorgeous and Scott (and did any of them so much as send me a text back? Uh. No. ), I shall let the texts tell the story.

Stuck in lift, waiting to be rescued. 8:51pm

Luckily I have beer and wine... 8:54pm

Do you think they will send firemen? 8:56pm

And if so, how many? 8:56pm

Where are the firemen? 9:00pm

I hear people. I may be saved yet! 9:04pm

Bugger. Just someone on a mobile and not firemen. 9:05pm

Get off the phone and rescue me, already! I. AM. STUCK. IN. LIFT! 9:06pm

Oh great, someone else is stuck in the other lift... where are firemen? 9:07pm

At this point, I can hear firemen. I hear firemen above me. Or below me. But they're calling my name. They just can't seem to locate where I am.

"Lady? Can you let us know where you are?"

Erm. IN A LIFT! STUCK!

The lift says 2nd floor.
But I, erm... don't seem to be there. Neither is the lift. There is much confusion.

I wonder if the 2 voices are indeed firemen, remember that little Firemen's calendar shoot Esoteric did. Feel a little peculiar and dizzy.
Glance round to check my hair in the mirror. (I am so vain)

This, however, then proceeds to go on for quite a while.

"Lady? We are coming to get you."

Now they are just fucking with me 9:14pm

And then, the prying open of doors and beaming down at me are the faces of 2 firemen.
Neither look like Esoteric.
Neither are shirtless with only their firepants and suspenders and firemen's hats on. And neither is under 55.

There is no throwing me over their shoulder and carrying me away. No reaching down, wrapping muscular tattoed arms around me and pulling me free.

However, I am eternally grateful to them when one does extend his hand to help me out and I thank him graciously. Smile and giggle a little (Oh for goodness sakes, I have been trapped in a lift for 33 minutes and there are firemen. Firemen!)

And when Amelia makes her way upstairs, mentions the fire truck outside I can only beam.

13 comments:

Indiana said...

Having once work for the fire dept as a fireman I can atest to the fantasy most women hold for being rescued...I often wondered what it was, since the uniform is so unflattering.

Anonymous said...

indy - you see, we imagine taking that unflattering uniform off. Slowly. Or, quickly, if the situation requires.

lady, I am so glad you made it out of your harrowing brush with death unscathed!

anywherebutTX said...

You are so much more of a lady than myself.... I was already thinking, "OK.... old firemen probably have hot, young firemen sons.... hmmmm.... Should I ask, or would that seem ungrateful right after they saved me from a brush with death?"

Anonymous said...

Look. We all know that that fabulous Devyl is going to take DAYS to post about this past weekend in Lady Miss land... Obviously it's completely up to you. Please, spill!

lady miss marquise said...

Ha ha ha - oh Ammo.
Erm, have you seen my post on Seattle yet? So yes, you may be waiting a little longer on me. But there was fun indeed.

Oh and Indy. Indy, Indy, Indy. Ammo sums it up perfectly. But it's the whole hero thing that gets me.

Texas, erm. You know, I wasn't thinking? Oh damn... Next time (although really really hoping there isn't a next time)

"the b" said...

ha ha ha - I was the envy of my halls at university once, when I burnt my toast, set off the alarms, like a good girl owned up, and got to be ticked off (oooh, it makes me tingle just to think about it even now, more years on than I like to think about) by several firemen. And I'm sorry to say, but THESE firemen, standing in a tall circle around little me, were young strapping lads who looked EXCEEDINGLY handsome in their uniform.

We also waved at one fireman standing by the window at the end of the fireman's mess, when walking past the fire station one day a few months later... and then watched as the other firemen all charged en masse down the room from the other end, visible through the windows all along the side and practically stood on each others' heads to get at the end window and wave back...

Go to Aberdeen sometime.

lady miss marquise said...

B: Ah B, I used to live in Glasgow and actually dated one of Glasgow's finest. We met as the company I worked for was always getting bomb scares, and the same rig always seemed to show up.
But being reprimanded by a circle of firemen, well... I am weak kneed already. I think I may have to go lay down.

Winters: You do have some good taste there, my dear boy. *winks*

Miss Devylish said...

And I didn't even tell you my own personal story of being 'rescued' by firemen.. I asked the cute one out in front of all of them.. and not that that ever happened, but he chased me for a while. Too bad he was a terrible flake.. he was soooooooooo hot. Damn. Ahh.. memories.. Glad you got out safe to hang w/ me sister! Next time we should try to get stuck.. 2nd time's a charm, right?

Anonymous said...

Oh. Well, I guess I'm screwed then. Sighhh...

"the b" said...

Yeah, I wish I'd been braver back then. I wish I was braver NOW, but I haven't been told off by firemen recently. The ringleader said I owed him a pound because he'd had to interupt his game of pool.

I wish I was good at quick comebacks. I STILL haven't thought of a flirtatious line in response to that.

lady miss marquise said...

Sorry Ammo - let me see what I can do!

Ha, B - I am so similar, I have had a few good comebacks in my time, but I would have struggled to make intelligible conversation, let alone finding flirting capacity!

sophie said...

such a sheer joy to read!

I loved it!!!!!!!
Very Nora Ephron in it's humor
and intelligence.

This needs to be published
somewhere.

It made me laugh and i'm sure
not laughting much lately:(

have a great weekend:)

lady miss marquise said...

Thank you Sophie... what an amazing compliment!

And I'm glad I could make you smile.

*beams*

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