Cigarettes, Gardenias and Fishnet Stockings - Part II

          By the time I had finished my circuit around the mezzanine and was heading back down to the lower level, there was a sudden commotion behind me.  I turned to see flames from the barbeque grills had attacked the ceiling beams and these were already on fire.  It was stunning how quickly the flames took hold and traveled along the ceiling.

          Immediately there was panic.  People screaming, trying to get down the steps and out the front door were being impeded by the people on the ground floor trying to do the same.

          I had made it to the private side room and as calmly as possible I tried to encourage the customers there to take their things and exit the building.  I was not being brave.  I truly thought that this was a little fire the fire department would put out quickly and we’d all end up in the boss’s office laughing and joking about the drama of it all.

          It was only seconds later that I suddenly felt burning in my eyes and thick black smoke enveloping me.  I couldn’t breathe.  There was no air.  I grabbed a handful of the velvet curtain and pressed it against my nose and mouth.  The smoke was so terribly thick I couldn’t see even a foot in front of my face.  I think it was then that I realized that this was not going to end with jokes in the boss’s office, and that my life was in actual danger.

          Dumping the cigarette tray onto a table I dropped to the floor and started to crawl towards where I thought the front door might be.   Suddenly there was a shattering of glass and I heard a voice yelling, ‘Fire department…is anyone still in here?’

          Thank the good Lord, you bet there is!

          The voice directed me to get on the floor and crawl towards him.  Well, I was already on the floor and, although it was a little easier to breathe down there, I still couldn’t see anything but vague outlines of the legs of chairs and tables. 

          I kept crawling until suddenly there was a big arm grabbing me and pulling me outside.  Coughing and spluttering I joined the rest of the patrons on the footpath.

          The Embers  burned to the ground that night.  Walking past the charred and boarded up building the next day, I paused to read what some wit had scrawled across the front door.  The Ashes, it said.  Too true.