I had just gotten out of jail, which was a strange enough episode. My mom had given me enough money to stay in a cheap motel, but I was looking for some place like a room in an abandoned factory to sleep in. Pretty stupid, I know. It was summertime, and it was hot. I walked through this neighborhood of dry wood frame houses, and there was this place on a street at the end of it. It was a prefab, corrugated tin building, and there were these dry wooden pallets surrounding it. To me, it looked like a fire hazard. Dry, well ventilated wood burns very fast and hot, and the dry, wood frame houses in the neighborhood looked like they would burn very fast and hot too. I walked up for a closer look. There was this tank of propane sitting right next to the wooden pallets. The gauge said there wasn’t much propane in it, but all around the tank were these pools of oily solvent. A single lit cigarette could have set that on fire very easily. At the time, I interpreted these circumstances to be deliberate. I thought somebody had done this on purpose. I alerted five businesses and two fire stations about it. Finally, a fire truck came, and the guy in charge told me that you got awards and a plaque for pointing out fire traps. He said I had to go into the metal building to get it. I declined. My reasoning was that if someone would deliberately do that they wouldn’t hesitate to seriously kick my ass. I headed the other direction, and as far as I know, those dry wooden pallets are still there.
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