Fire Drill

I was in a meeting this afternoon when the fire alarm went off. At first, the bright white light blinking confused me, as I thought I was being abducted, but then we realized that they were not going to let us continue to sit there and scrub these ISP issues. So we disconnected from the telecon, and made our way to the stairwell where like a flock of sheep, we winded down the 11 flights of stairs and evacuated to safety.

First of all, I was in my four-inch heels, which is usually not a problem on the stairs, but I pulled both calf muscles Monday night playing two soccer games. Second, had this been a real fire, we would have all burned to death within three minutes. Seriously? You think we’re going to escape blazing fires by crawling down 11 flights of stairs, through a hallway that has one narrow door, and down three more flights of stairs? You’ve got to be kidding me. Someone had mentioned in passing that during 9/11, people had to evacuate from the World Trade Centers from the 62nd floor via stairs, and that a fireman had to rescue someone on the 74th floor by going up the stairs. This is just not going to work people.

In the event of another fire drill or a real disaster, here’s what I’m going to do. With my non-existent sidearm, I’m going to shoot through a window and break the glass. Next, I am going to put on my parachute just in case I decide to base-jump or depending what floor of the building I’m on (we’ll see what mood I’m in). With my hook and rope, I’m going to propel down the side of the building very S.W.A.T.-like and land safely on the ground before the building collapses in flames.

And I’m going to do all this in my four-inch heels and a pencil skirt.

BTW, making rubber band balls is very therapeutic.