Houston, We Have A Problem!

Tuesday night I retired to my bed early. It was 9:00pm Houston Time – I was tired. I read a little of my Amelia Peabody mystery, completed my nightly ablutions and called it a day, not wanting to pay $4.99 to watch an episode of Psych (sigh). I was sleeping soundly when all of a sudden I was raised from my bed by the most unnerving of sounds—the hotel fire alarm. I was able to recognize it immediately by the unmistakable “whooping” the “For Your Safety in an Emergency” card on the back of the door warned me about (yes, I am nerdy enough to read the placards on the back side of hotel doors). I flew from my bed like a bat out of “that one place” and climbed quickly into the nearest pair of shoes, hurriedly gathered my dolls and dishes (a phrase which here means, grabbed my backpack containing most of my life, and my cell phone and headed for the door (all of this before the second “whooping” was complete. Just before exiting my room I glanced back to see the alarm clock – the time 3:44 was burned onto my retinas (Ugh!)

I headed out the door to the stairs where I met up with three other souls—apparently the only three who also heard the alarm and were concerned for their lives. We made our way as carefully and as quickly as we could, literally dodging scrap metal and sundry other hazardous items in our path (one of the other women was not wearing any shoes). As we opened the emergency door we were blasted with a rush of humidity (it had to have been 80 degrees out there—double ugh!) By this time I was nigh unto heat stroke, especially after the rapid descent of 4 flights of stairs (thank heavens I took Dad’s advice and requested a room on a lower floor…I can’t imagine having to hurry down any more flights than that!)

We came out at the front of the hotel and through the locked glass doors we saw several people acting as though nothing had happened. 3 other girls come out the fire door looking dazed and confused. There were NO fire trucks, there was NO flame or smoke to be seen! WHAT THE HECK! So we all head to the rear entrance to see if we can find out what is going on. Once back inside the building the receptionist informs us that the alarm was an “accident” ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!? No apologizes, no offer of free breakfast, just a smile and an inferred “Sleep tight.”

When I made it back to my room I was too (insert appropriate adjective here) to sleep. I tried to fall asleep all the while fearing the “Whooping” would start up again! At some point I did fall asleep because I woke up to my alarm two hours later which ironically sounded a lot like the whooping of the fire alarm!

I praying there will be no more “accidents” while I’m here in Houston!

Moral of the story: #1 You should listen to your Dad, even if what he’s telling you sounds like it came straight from the Reader’s Digest. #2 Always pack a pair of running shoes that you can get on fast (double button Doc Marten’s are not the best in an emergency situation) and #3 Always read the instructions on the back of the door—you never know when your 3:44 moment may arrive.