His Glenness relates a story about his recent trip wherein he and his family were in a hotel when the fire alarm sounded. InstaFamily escaped quickly, and the hotel sprinklers quickly doused the fire.
At least it was a real fire.
Last time I was in Milwaukee, staying in the Hyatt Regency, the fire alarm went off twice. Once on Saturday afternoon, when I was taking my pre-drinking nap and once at 3 am Sunday morning during my post-drinking-pre-driving-home slumber, someone tripped the fire alarm. Your paranoia shidoshi leapt into his trousers, shirt, and shoes quickly and stumbled, quite groggily in the second case, made his way down the narrow concrete steps.
If all the hotel’s denizens had been trying to make their ways down the stairs at the time, we would have had trouble. The stairs were only two people wide, and I was on the ninth floor. That would have made for some trampling if shidoshi had to sacrifice their lives to preserve his….
Oh, but no. The staircase was empty. All other patrons in the hotel waited in their rooms for the announcement that it was a false alarm.
Interesting strategy, guaranteed to only fail once.
My students, when that fire alarm rings, buzzes, or beeps, you leave the building. Perhaps Ashton Kutcher, wearing a fireman’s helmet, will meet you at on the street to tell you you’ve been punked. But maybe he won’t..
Or, if you’d rather not give up cable until you have to, feel free to make Brian J. Noggle the beneficiary of your traveler’s insurance as you go (e-mail me for my SSN, which you’ll need for the forms).
And do not ask your shidoshi about the “coincidence” that he never accepts employment in an office above the fifth floor, nor look in his lower left drawer and seek explanation for the fifty feet of nylon clothesline you might find.
Thank you, that is all.