FEELIN" HOT HOT HOT: Firemen Are True Heroes.
On a cool afternoon I rang the doorbell to a firehouse located in Phoenix, Arizona. I had feelings of anxiousness and was waiting very impatiently at the door. My preconceptions were that I would speak with a very buff male (probably someone who looked as if they were in the WWF), that I would meet nothing but arrogant cocky guys who wanted to be a bunch of heroes, and that I would see them flying down poles and cute white Dalmatians chasing after their "little" red engines that could. All of this was thrown to the back of my mind as the door creaked open. .
A small, brown-haired, friendly woman answered in her casual clothes of a t-shirt and sweats saying, "Come on in, you"re Lori, right?" I nodded my head and entered the red brick home. "My name is Gina. Come follow me and I"ll show you around, introduce you to the captain and our team." She pointed to a few guys in the living room and I smiled and said hello. Their living room had a few nice leather chairs and a good size TV, they seemed pretty casual and were having a good time talking and laughing over a game of baseball. .
I followed Gina from the living room into their kitchen. They had a large fridge with just about all anyone might ever want to eat in their lives! It was especially interesting how these fire men/women look tough on the outside, yet wrote their names on each bag of lunch as if they were in third grade again and don't want anyone to steal what their mommy packed especially for them. We moved from there into the garage, which is where the big red engine sat along with a rescue unit, otherwise known as an ambulance. .
"These are where we keep our fire proof boots, coats, and helmets and we have to keep them in order because we don't usually have a lot of time when going to the scene of a large fire." I glanced along the pathway of the engine at the bright yellow jackets, heavy boots, and hard helmets she was pointing to, which were assembled in a specific order.
