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How to attract firemen / firefighters without a fire!


It must be some kind of destiny in my family to have contact with the Fire Brigade and fireman. Twice in two years I have ended up with half a dozen firemen wandering around our home whilst I am clothed only in a dressing gown and little else. In each case there has been no fire, yet we have had a full sized fire engine in our communal car park, and loads of fit, dishy, uniformed firemen filling up our tiny rented cottage.


Locked Out

I reckon it all began some years ago when our Mother married the Fire Chief of Guernsey some years after my Sister's and my own, real Father had died. Before this I can't say that either of us had any previous contact with the Fire Brigade. We hit it off with James immediately, and he proved a very helpful person to know in the event of any emergency, his military style practicality and common sense, being an absolute Godsend in the event of unforeseen crisis arising.

The first crazy incident that caused one of us to end up with a house full of firemen was when my Sister Hayley lived in "Golder's Green", (an area of London heavily populated with orthodox Jews, complete with ringleted hair, long black beards etc).

Hayley had gone out for the evening, and upon returning home to her flat realised she had lost her keys and had no way of getting back into the property. She immediately panicked as it was late at night and she had nowhere else to go. Not knowing what else to do she phoned our Mum in Guernsey in floods of tears explaining that she had no idea how to get back into her flat and was currently stranded out on the street in London in the early hours of the morning.

Mum quickly passed the phone over to our Stepfather James, (who had by now retired from the Fire Brigade) in the hope he might be able to suggest an easy way she could gain access to her flat. Strangely enough he had a very good idea, albeit not the obvious solutions such as easy ways to pick a lock or contact a neighbour. No, James suggestion was that Hayley should call the Fire Brigade, tell them she thought she had left her iron on, and had lost her keys and could not get back into her flat to check. Of course because of the fire risk the fire brigade would have to come out to check out the problem, and they would get her into her flat one way or another. James reassured Hayley that as it wasn't an actual fire, the Brigade would not arrive with sirens blaring, but would simply turn up quietly and get her back into the flat.

Comforted by this thought Hayley took James's advice and phoned the local Fire Brigade, telling them she was fairly sure she had left her iron on, but could not access the property to check it out. The Fire Brigade promised to come straight out to her, and told her to wait for their arrival.

Hayley duly waited, expecting the fire engine to turn up quietly and assist her in re-entering her flat. You can imagine her shock when a full sized fire engine came roaring around the corner into her street some 10 minutes later, all sirens on full blast, complete with flashing blue lights etc. Almost immediately all the local Jewish community were out on their doorsteps, complete with ringlets, beards and black hats, no doubt concerned as to where the fire was!

Hayley was totally embarrassed, but could not give the game away now and had to let the farce continue. The Firemen got out all the ladders required to reach Hayley's flat which was several floors up, and whilst part of the crew were intent on getting to the correct floor Hayley was chatting to one of the crew who was still on the ground. Her concentration had lapsed, so when they heard a shout from above it was from the fireman who was at the top of the ladder to say he had managed to open a window into her flat. He called down, "I can see a coffee table on a blue carpet, is that right?". "No" Hayley said puzzled. "what about flowery curtains and a toy teddy bear?" he called back. "No, that's not right" she said. "Oh my God" he said, "Is Jeremy Beadle going to jump out of somewhere any second?", (Jeremy Beadle used to do a show a bit like Candid Camera on TV where wind up jokes were caught on film).

It turned out they were of course in the wrong flat, and had to move all the ladders one flat to the left to get into the correct one.

Eventually Hayley did get back into her flat with their help, but to add to her embarrassment, she told a girl she worked with about it the next day. The girl said at the end of Hayley's story, "Yes, but it still counts as a shout doesn't it!"

It turned out that the girl's Husband, unbeknown to Hayley, worked as a fireman for the same fire brigade, so Hayley had now landed herself in it completely and told her all about how the call was not genuinely because of an iron being left on unattended.

Fortunately the girl must have kindly kept it to herself, or her Husband saw the funny side, as no more was mentioned on the subject again.

Carbon Monoxide

Around 2 years ago my Husband and I had an oil fired AGA, heating the rented property we live in. All had gone smoothly using this AGA for the first year, but then, suddenly we started to get a terrible smell of oil in the house, and before three days were out we found the smell was becoming overwhelming and even our clothes stank of oil. Our eyes were streaming constantly and life was becoming unbearable. What we didn't realise was that not only was our own oil leaking from pipes under the floor, but also our neighbour had blocked up the ventilation in the outhouse connected to our property where the Landlord kept the boiler running for the communal central heating system. The smell of oil had become so bad that the same neighbour called out the Fire Brigade, and they turned up on our doorstep whilst I was soaking in the bath trying to lose the smell of oil from my body and hair.

Richard called up the stairs to me and said "Cindy, the Fire Brigade are here", to which my reply was "Goody, send them up".

Of course they rapidly checked out the property very thoroughly, turned off our AGA and confirmed that our property was full of Carbon Monoxide Gas, although obviously that was not the cause of the smell which had come from the oil leak. They turned on immense fans trying to suck out the poisoned air, but even after half an hour the air was still not safe, and they told us to sleep elsewhere to be on the safe side.

All in all I spent about an hour and a half wandering around in my dressing gown in front of all these dishy fireman, not sure whether to be grateful for God's gift to me, or to be embarrassed at my lack of clothing.

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As it goes Richard and I ended up going to the pub for the evening, by which time we decided it was worth the risk of sleeping back at home again because the landlord had been out and drilled a load of holes in the outhouse door to ensure full ventilation to the communal boiler was restored.

An eventful evening to say the least!


The Flood

A word of warning, never, ever, let a DIY challenged Husband who has consumed a few beers in the pub beforehand, attempt to re-plumb in a washing machine. This is exactly what mine did about three nights ago at about 11.30pm at night.

Richard decided upon his return home from the pub that now was the time our washing machine needed to be moved from the bathroom into the corridor on our landing, and then be re-plumbed into the drainage system under the bath.

I did tell him to leave it until the following day when we would have other, DIY knowledgeable people around to help out such as my Step Dad, but Richard insisted he could move the machine and would not attempt any plumbing until the following day. Foolishly I believed him and carried on watching TV whilst he banged and crashed around upstairs.

At one point he did return downstairs and told me to not come upstairs for at least half an hour. I gave him an 'old fashioned look' but decided to let him get on with whatever he was doing in the hope it would turn out okay. BIG mistake!!!

About half an hour later I was still laying on the sofa when I heard drips landing on the arm of our leather sofa. I called upstairs to Richard to say we had water coming through the ceiling. His reply was "Don't worry, I am sorting it now".

Within a further couple of minutes the water flow was getting heavier and I was again calling up the stairs. The note of slight panic was in Richard's voice by now as he realised he could not stop the water flow. During the next few minutes the water had now formed into a torrent that was pouring through our lounge ceiling and was covering the sofa, tables, rug, electrical appliances etc.

Neither of us could find the stop cock to turn the water off at the mains, and I was calling Richard all the names known to man including "Blithering idiot", "F*****g twat", "Fool" etc. About then the water starting pouring on to the downstairs light fittings and the power went off. So, in the dark, I had to move the electric fire away from the torrents of water, as well as all the mobile phones, remote controls for TV etc etc.

Richard called down to me that I needed to call out the Fire Brigade, so as the lounge was like Niagra Falls by now, I fumbled my way up to our attic room and managed to dial 999 in the dark from the extension phone.

Having rapidly explained the problem to the Fire Brigade I got off the phone and called my Step Dad (who you may remember is the retired Fire chief here in Guernsey, and formerly Senior Officer in Liverpool). His advice was to turn on all the cold taps in the household full blast to try to drain off as much water as possible the conventional way, and therefore reduce the flow leaking into the lounge. We did this, and it helped slightly. By now we had about 6 neighbours who had turned up and were trying to help us locate the stopcock, as well as attempting to stem the flow of water. Again, I am wandering around in my dressing gown having had a bath shortly before Richard had returned home after his night out.

By now it is after 1.30am in the morning, the lounge is about an inch under water and the Fire Brigade have arrived. In addition to this we have about 6 neighbours frantically trying to help us by rounding up our TV and moving it to another property, searching for stopcocks, producing torches etc.

Yet again I have over 6 firemen, some from the full sized fire engine and some from the four wheel drive landrover, running around our house whilst I am only wearing a dressing gown, only this time there are also 4 male neighbours and 3 female neighbours as well.

Eventually whilst I sat shellshocked and cursing my hubby in the bedroom (accompanied my kitten 'Squish'), the firemen found where to turn off the water, which ended up being right under the eves in the attic bedroom. Then the next phase began, where everyone started mopping up by torchlight and using lights attached to an extension cable linked into the outhouse.

With equipment borrowed from the Fire Brigade such as a pump, we managed to suck out most of the water. Shortly after the Brigade left, (having loaned us the pump until Monday), my Step Dad James also turned up (time now about 02.30am). Our neighbours had done as much as they could and helped with mopping etc, but even they needed their sleep and had to go home.

Eventually only Richard, James and I were left, and on the quiet Richard asked James if I could sleep at their place that night as I think he knew he was in for a right rollocking otherwise. James agreed and I drove back and slept on their couch for the night and this gave Richard time to clear up all the mess before I retuned the following day at 8pm.

So yet again we had a houseful of Firemen when all I had on was a dressing gown. Seems to be becoming a habit!

Of course Richard is not telling anyone about the real cause of the flood, and although it is true the connection under the bath which he was attempting to plumb the washing machine into was a dodgy bodged fitting, he did not tell the neighbours, the firemen or the landlord how the flood happened. Only my parents and I know the truth, and that is that Richard decided to move the washing machine after some alcohol, and late at night, as well as with little DIY knowledge. To cap it all we have had to claim off the household insurance for a new sofa, Video/DVD recorder, heater and rug. A total of well over £800. We are just lucky the majority of the floors downstairs are tiles not carpet.

I guess the only reason I have not quite throttled him over this is because I had the chance to cool off at my parents place overnight, plus he tidied up pretty well although we are still drying out here. If we hadn't taken out the household contents insurance two weeks ago though I think I would have definitely throttled him by now.





So you see. There is no need to have a fire in order to meet a dishy fireman. Simply get locked out of your home, flood it, or have an oil leak, just make sure you are not wearing many clothes when they turn up, and keep your fingers crossed, (if not your legs!) 


Bjlowe99 on April 26, 2018:

there are funny ways that i would actually probably try to do if i didn't feel like cleaning anything up or having to basically loose my keys to my house.

love this artical

Cindy Lawson (author) from Guernsey (Channel Islands) on January 14, 2009:

LOL Rochelle, thanks for commenting. No, I truly don't need to make this stuff up, it is all 100% true. My life is seldom dull :)

Rochelle Frank from California Gold Country on January 14, 2009:

Oh my, Misty-- you do lead an interesting life.

In no way can I magine that you are making all of this up

Cindy Lawson (author) from Guernsey (Channel Islands) on January 14, 2009:

Hi Bellemerchant, no need to start a fire, just chuck your cat up a high tree and then call them out to rescue her :)

Bellemerchant from New York on January 14, 2009:

The firemen sure did get me thinking about starting a fire. Oh afraid of fire,so i'll probably visit the local fire department with a box of chocolates. If im lucky I may meet one hunky fireman like the ones in your hub. LOL

Cindy Lawson (author) from Guernsey (Channel Islands) on January 14, 2009:

Thanks Bruce and KCC, I shall definitely look at doing more on this subject. :)

Hi BT, ahhh, it must have been tough for you too :) :)

KRC from Central Texas on January 13, 2009:

*wipes drool* veeeeeeeeeerrrrrrry nice hunks, I mean hub. :) Cute guys and a cute story.

Bruce Elkin from Victoria, BC Canada on January 13, 2009:

AS usual, good writing and good laughs. Thanks!

B.T. Evilpants from Hell, MI on January 13, 2009:

Sorry to hear about your plumbing issues, Cindy. It must have been pure Hell, having to look at all those firemen at all hours of the night! It reminds me of the time the Hooters waitresses showed up at my house, with an emergency delivery of chicken wings. It was a real nightmare.

Cindy Lawson (author) from Guernsey (Channel Islands) on January 13, 2009:

Yep Madison, lots of interest which is wirrying when you see how much of it is from Men!!

Hi EYEAM4ANARCHY, possibly they do, but not knowing exactly what your Firemen do I cannot be sure. LOL, an outhouse here is like an outside storage room, or in our case a former laundery room, NOT a toilet as I suspect you may mean an outhouse in America would be.

Kelly W. Patterson from Las Vegas, NV. on January 13, 2009:

I get the impressions that firemen do alot more over there and that outhouses aren't quite the same as they are in America.

I'm alright with the fireman, but the weird photoshop on that Hasid's face is creeping me out.

Madison Parker from California on January 13, 2009:


Look at all of the comments on this article!!! I guess the consensus is that there's a lot of interest in cute fire guys!!!! LOL

Cindy Lawson (author) from Guernsey (Channel Islands) on January 13, 2009:

Keep your eyes open Princessa, you never know what might turn up :) Thanks for commenting.

Wendy Iturrizaga from France on January 13, 2009:

Poor Hayley. If only the firemen in my town looked like those in here... (deep breath...). In any event, now I know the trick if they ever bring some georgeous firemen to town ;-)

Cindy Lawson (author) from Guernsey (Channel Islands) on January 13, 2009:

LOL, thanks everyone, I must get some I my Step Dad's stories together of when he was in the Fire Brigade. He has had me in fits of laughter telling me their antics and I reckon everyone would enjoy them here too.

Glad you all enjoyed these, and yep, I definitely recommend a fireman as a boyfriend, sadly I didn't get one LOL

Pam Roberson from Virginia on January 13, 2009:

Wow, we don't have any firemen around here who look like THAT. If we did, I'd be having emergencies left and right. ;)

Sounds like you actually have a good deal going with those fire guys...they come to your place looking all yummy, and you receive them looking all yummy. Both parties are evidently mutually satisfied and happy. ;) Heck, I bet when they hear your address coming over the scanner, they knock each other down trying to get down the fire pole first.

Good one Cindy! :D

Mike the salesman from birmingham alabama/sherwood oregon on January 13, 2009:

Oh dear, should my daughter read this, one "disaster" after another shall befall this household. She has a fireman thing.. In fact she only smokes in bed! lol Thanks for the fun read!

Lifebydesign from Australia on January 13, 2009:

What a riot, that was a fun! read. You can't beat the statistics - I think Madison's got the right idea you might as well get used to it, and look good while you're at it.

countrywomen from Washington, USA on January 12, 2009:

Joe- I thought by now you must have recovered from your "modesty". As the picture on this hub resembles you in an earlier era compared to your present profile picture...LOL

Joseph Addams from Standing right behind you! on January 12, 2009:

PLEASE REMOVE THE PHOTO OF ME IN THE FIREMAN'S OUTFIT IMMEDIATELY. I hate it when women look at me like some kind of boy toy.

countrywomen from Washington, USA on January 12, 2009:

Madison- You maybe tempting many single girls like me to make a hoax call about a fake fire incident like Misty's sister to get to meet the Prince Charming...LOL

countrywomen from Washington, USA on January 12, 2009:

Duplicate comment.

Madison Parker from California on January 12, 2009:

Okay, that was flippin' hilarious. My sister-in-law always said she wanted to marry a fireman. I didn't think much about it, but then she met her present husband. What a great guy! He is cute, but he's also very smart and clever when it comes to doing and fixing stuff around the house; even building! I think they give firemen tests to check for this stuff, and they have to be personable and, above all, really cute! Our local fire guys are adorable.

Once I had to call when my mother-in-law was thought to be having a heart attack. They were here before my son put the phone down when calling them. Talk about cuties!!

These days, unfortunately, we've had to call for me, and for two of our friends. I'm afraid the local guys know us a bit too well. Once, when I had an appendicitus attack and had to call for an ambulance, (the fire guys got here first.) Then, a friend fell in our yard and hit his head so badly that he didn't know who he was for an entire week! And one other time when a girlfriend of mine decided that meds and alcohol weren't too bad a combination and passed out on the bathroom floor!!!! It's never boring, I'll give us that!

If I were you, I'd be sure to keep a collection of really cute, not-with-holes and worn-out dressing gowns around! LOL!! But for single girls, the fire guys aren't a bad catch! They're screened pretty well so you know they aren't whack jobs, they have to be cute to get the job and they're smart. Amen! Go girls, good advice here.


countrywomen from Washington, USA on January 12, 2009:

Cindy- Well sometimes those incidents at that time seem like a disaster but later become unforgettable moments. Life is remembered by those unforgettable moments but I am sure you have enough of them already and don't want any more of it though..LOL

P.S: As far as being in the night gown is concerned I guess you are giving those poor guys some additional "incentive" to come and perform their duties during those unearthly hours..hehe

Cindy Lawson (author) from Guernsey (Channel Islands) on January 12, 2009:

LOL Cris, I shall let you know if my bush ever burns!!!!!

Cris A from Manila, Philippines on January 12, 2009:

They sounded more like the handymen if you asked me! LOL Nice anecdotes. But what if the bush burns? I mean it's not the first time for a burning bush? :D

Cindy Lawson (author) from Guernsey (Channel Islands) on January 12, 2009:

LOL Violet, so it is, and what a great way to wake up :)

Cindy Lawson (author) from Guernsey (Channel Islands) on January 12, 2009:

LOL, fun briefly, cats are not so sure as they hate water!!!

VioletSun from Oregon/ Name: Marie on January 12, 2009:

I don't mind those firemen looking at me, hehe. It was funny about your sister's experience, and what an adventure you had with your hubby!    

Years ago, when I lived in my NY apt, an elderly woman burned her pot and smoke filled the hall. The firemen where called, and after seeing there wasn't a fire, still rang the doorbell of each of the tenant's door to ensure everyone was alright. Since I am hearing impaired, when they came to my door, I didn't hear the bell as I was also in a deep sleep. They entered through my window (after having installed a window gate for protection the day before, I kid you not), and entered my bedroom.  Imagine my shock when I woke up to find two firemen and a cop standing over my bed.  What woke me up was one of the firemen turning the lamp on and off. As my girlfriend, said, "those firemen will get to you no matter what in the event of a fire, so that's reassuring". And one of my fun male co-workers said "its the only time I would have three men in my bedroom." LOL!      

goldentoad from Free and running.... on January 12, 2009:

No, his ego was crushed to little pebbles. He'll never get over it. But It sounded like you momentarily enjoyed it. And as far the cats go, well okay, I can see that.

Cindy Lawson (author) from Guernsey (Channel Islands) on January 12, 2009:

LOL, yes your image keeps on appearing doesn't it GT?

As for Hubby's pain, what about mine?? I was totally stressed, and as for the poor cats!!!!

goldentoad from Free and running.... on January 12, 2009:

First off, I wish the guys in the hub would quit looking at me, its making me feel weird. Secondly, wow, what a disaster! Poor hubby. I feel his pain. And big props for keeping your cool about it.

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