What a Day, Part Deux

As I type, the fire alarm in my apartment is going off. I can't get it to stop. I pulled wires, pushed buttons and hit it a few times. No luck. It's been going on for almost an hour. The maintenance guy was supposed to be here 40 minutes ago.

This is a severe, severe Master of the Mother Fucker situation.


UPDATE:
Well, the house didn't burn down. The maintenance guy never came - I ended up calling him back. Maintenance Guy said they had to call in an electrician, something about the alarm being hardwired throughout the building.

I called my brother, also an electrician, and asked him what I should do. He recommended I pull down the unit and unplug "The Black Wire" from "The Plastic Thing." I couldn't find the plastic thing, and ended up calling him an electrician of great incompetence.

Shortly thereafter, this guy who lives above me came walking home and stopped at my door, noticing the alarm. Upstairs Guy is also a maintanance man here in the complex, and suggested I pull down the unit and remove "The Black Wire" from "The Plastic Thing." It all made so much more sense when he explained it. As I was talking to him, the only thing I could think was that I totally overheard him having sex the other night. We're discussing maintenance policy on charging for damaged fire alarms, and all I can picture is him having raging hot sex like the super stud or cialis addict he must be.

He came inside and unplugged "The Black Wire," ending my two hour fire alarm nightmare. Another half hour later the electrician that had been dispatched arrived, and replaced the unit. He also promised I wouldn't be charged for it, which is good, because I beat the crap out of it. He didn't seem to notice though.