I live in an apartment building in London. The flat is dirty and disheveled. There are anonymous roommates and my room is full of expensive electronics and equipment. The back wall of my room has a window that reveals a view of the internal wall. We are moving out today. Everyone is packing up their stuff and I go into my room to pack my belongings. In the window that views into the wall, there is a fire. I start to panic and call 911. The line is busy. I call back and get an operator and tell her that my apartment is on fire, send the fire department. “My fucking apartment is on fire! Help! Send help!” The operator is uninterested and annoyed that a Yankee doodle is bothering her.
I go outside and cross the street to wait for the fire department and see president Obama on the sidewalk.”My apartment is on fire and the 911 operator doesn’t care. I’m not sure the fire department is going to come,” I say.
He looks into my eyes and earnestly speaks, “we must intercede in these times of crisis.”