This morning I was woken out of a dead sleep by the most obnoxious, deafening fire alarm in existence and was forced to finally answer that question we all ask ourselves from time to time: What would you grab? The answer was my jogging bra, good socks and sneakers. I had 32 flights of stairs to race down and there was no way I was going to bounce all the way to the bottom..good to know that I can be rational when I’m barely awake.
The alarm was momentarily interrupted by a voice telling us to stay in our rooms and wait for further instructions. Riiii-ight. Let me ask you something. If you’re 32 floors above the ground across from the hole that was the World Trade Center and you’re thinking about the people in the second tower that didn’t believe there would be another plane and how they’d be alive if they’d moved, would you try to sit there, losing your hearing and wait for further instructions? No? I didn’t think so. I hauled ass out of there.
I wasn’t the only one. There were plenty of people milling about downstairs, oogling the many, many hunky FDNY fire fighters who’d arrived for the “emergency”. We were told that it was a faulty alarm, and allowed to go back to our rooms almost immediately.
All that exercise and eye candy, and I couldn’t get back to sleep — the wind howling against my windows sounded like screams.
