She Doesn’t Smell What The Rock Is Cooking, Either

One afternoon, I smell smoke as I am cleaning around my apartment. I spend a few minutes searching around to see if it is coming from anywhere in my apartment, and I poke my head out the window to see if someone is barbecuing outside, but I can’t find a source. So, I decide to call up the apartment office and let them know, at least.

Receptionist: “Hello, this is [Apartment]. How may I help you?”

Me: “Hi, this is [My Name] in apartment [number]. I just wanted to say that I smell a strong smell of smoke in my apartment, though I can’t actually see anything.”

Receptionist: “Hmm… Well, I don’t smell anything.”

There is a long pause after this, as I try to work out if she is joking and how I should respond. The apartment office is in an entirely separate building from any of the actual units in this complex, so her comment makes absolutely no sense.

Receptionist: “Well, bye!” *Click*

I considered calling back, but less than a minute later, the fire alarms in the building started going off, so I ended up evacuating. It turns out that there was a kitchen fire in the level below mine, though luckily it was contained enough that it didn’t spread before the fire department could arrive and put it out. The smell lingered for weeks, however.

But at least they couldn’t smell it in the office!