En Fuego

About a month ago, one of our distant neighbors got a bit happy with his small BBQ grill. He had apparently loaded it up with food and charcoal, tossed a match, and then abandoned ship for points unknown. He must have forgotten an appointment at the hair salon or something.

He had none of the problems that I've had getting his grill hot enough. He's a natural, it would seem. His tiny little grill nearly turned into a molten pile of slag while he was out.

My wife and I found out about all of this midstream, shortly after the fire truck went screaming past on the way to his apartment. We quickly joined the community of concerned onlookers... which is just another way of saying we were bored and looking for a free show. Sadly, Slappy McFirebug didn't return while the firemen were there.

The next day, we walked by to see what the fallout was. There was a small burned-out patch in the grass. Our responsible, concerned, distant neighbor had taken one look at the spot where his grill used to be, and then he took action. He'd replaced the grill.

Fast forward one month.

Yesterday, my wife and I were out walking again. We walked by Slappy's apartment, and noticed that there was no grill in his yard. We looked up at his balcony and saw the charred grey-ish black remains of a once-proud (and once red) grill. The poor fool had done it again.

I don't think he has another replacement grill. Maybe he'll get one tomorrow.