This was so surreal that I lifted it in toto from MightyGirl:
The Hudson is a hip hotel, the kind of place where the bar floor is lit from below and the showers look like they could beam you up. After checking out, I turn to see a firefighter ascending the escalator in full fight-me-some-fire gear. He’s followed by another, and another… and so on. Suddenly, there are five men with oxygen tanks searching for smoke to a saucy Latin beat. No one seems to notice. I think, “Um, the building’s on fire.” I look at the guys in flame-retardant suits, I look at the counter people quacking pleasant counter banter. No one is curious, no one is ruffled, the speakers continue to coo “Oye Como Va.” An Asian woman admires the leopard-skin pillow on a lobby chair, her friend approves. To her right, a firefighter unfastens his pickaxe and peers into a suspect stairwell. I think, “Um, hey? Guys? Is the building on fire?” The firefighters’ search takes on less urgency, and a few guests begin to notice them. These people gather around the firemen with coffee table books on New York… and request autographs.