Listen. I am aware of how vitally important fire alarms are for general wellbeing and safety. I know. But sometimes, I just want to rip the ones in my building out of the wall. Fires be damned.
Why the murderous rage you ask? Oh, let me tell you.
My building’s fire alarm has gone off three times over the past month. Each time there has been no actual fire. We never can figure out what exactly actually triggered the alarm. And to top it all off, it went off on the colder days of each week.
The first time, I was downstairs in our kitchen cooking dinner for my hall. For those of you who are unfamiliar with scholarship hall living, we have a shift system. This means there are two cooks assigned to dinner for each day of the week, and I’m one of them. So, I was minding my business, just making alfredo and making small talk with my co-cook while the pasta boiled on the stove. Then, the shrill ringing of the fire alarm starts to sound. I rush to turn off the stove before we have to leave the building. Some of my hallmates were in the dining room by the kitchen. One of them was in just a t-shirt and skirt so I let her wear my winter jacket because I was in a sweater, and we headed outside. Mind you, this was the first snow day of the semester, so you know it was WAY below freezing. We wait for the police to show up, huddled up together outside for warmth. Once the officer does the routine check, he lets us back inside. No harm done.
If it was just that one time, I wouldn’t have had a problem.
But then, THE NEXT DAY the fire alarm goes off again in the afternoon. Where was I this time? I had the terrible misfortune of being in the shower. This is legitimately a nightmare scenario that I had thought about every time we had a drill. I get in the shower, five minutes later, the fire alarm starts to go off. So, while cursing the universe and the building and myself, I pull on shorts and a t-shirt, grab my winter jacket from my room and head outside where once again, it is way below freezing. There I was with my wet hair, flip-flops and bare legs amidst the snow and ice, while the fire alarm rang. Once again, we go through the process of waiting for the police to show up and give us the all-clear to re-enter the building. I’m so mad at the world that I don’t go to class. Instead, I go take my damn shower.
So, the fire alarm went off on two consecutive, ridiculously cold days for no reason at all. That would make for a funny college story someday. I could live with that.
HOWEVER, the next week I woke up one day to our fire alarm going off. Again. I rolled out of bed, begrudgingly pulled on my winter jacket and went outside into the snow and ice in my flip-flops. Though I seriously considered just staying in bed. To make matters worse, this time it was also heavily snowing. It would have been pretty, if I wasn’t so focused on not dying of hypothermia. I watched a police officer and a fire truck with several firemen pull up to the building while my feet burned from the cold. I thought, “well if the fire department is here maybe something is actually wrong.” Spoiler alert: there was nothing wrong. No fire. No emergency. We all headed back inside before they even got the alarm turned off.
The third time really is the charm, and by charm, I mean last straw. I swear if the fire alarm goes off again, I am staying put until I see actual smoke.
Thus occurred the series of unfortunate fire alarms.
I sincerely hope none of you have to run out into the cold over false alarms. But if you do, I especially hope you aren’t in the shower when it goes off. God knows, it made me wish for my end right then and there.