Smile-breaks
Alarming Touches
Aargh!!! The alarm went off! Sounded like a flock of screeching crows at a funeral. Make that a dead rabbit funeral. And I was the dead rabbit.
I stood alone in the parking lot between a huge Hummer emitting tons of noise pollution and my innocent little sedan. Darn parking space was too narrow to begin with and the Hummer – well, you know how much of a normal parking space a Hummer takes.
First I hit the curb, trying to avoid the Hummer. Backed up and tried again. Hit the curb again – but less of it. Third time I made it. Breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door alongside the Hummer – just a crack.
Looked like there was room for me to squeeze between the Hummer and my car. I opened the door a little wider and stepped out and darned if that door didn’t up and whack that Hummer and all h’aitch broke loose. With me in the middle of it.
Best to get out of here fast. Before anyone came along and saw me standing next to the screaming Hummer. I straightened my jacket, put on my innocent look and walked quickly away. Two steps later, the Hummer went completely silent.
Whew! Got out of that one Scot-free.
This alarm business all started with the security system at work. They put me on the security list temporarily while we were looking for a new manager, but I was third on the list, so I wasn’t too worried that I’d ever get called.
Apparently numbers one and two travel a lot. Or don’t answer their phones when the Honeywell Security number comes up.
I was sound asleep when the first call came. My guy-I-live-with answered the phone, got a funny look on his face and handed it across the pillow to me. I couldn’t imagine who it would be at three in the morning.
It was male. It was not a relative. It was not my lover. Okay, I don’t have one of those. It was Honeywell, calling to tell me the alarms went off at the restaurant. Did I want them to call the police? How soon could I be down there?
Before we jumped out of bed and hurried downtown, it turned out to be a false alarm. But not a false interruption of sleep.
Couple of days later, on a “finally it’s Saturday!” kind of weekend, we were driving toward the errands place – you know, where the post office, credit union and other such fascinating buildings hang out - when my voicemail flashed and Honeywell Security’s number showed up on the “Missed Calls” screen.
Not again! Where are one and two?!
This, too, turned out to be a false alarm. Two days later I turned in my keys and got myself removed from the list. Not that I’m a poor sport - we had a new manager in place - but I did fly to a remote spot in the Alps for a brief celebration.
The day after I took myself off the list, my car alarm went off. Why, I don’t know. I never set the alarm system. Car alarms are not my favorite musical entertainment. I don’t even have the CD. But I must’ve accidentally set it, because it was blaring and blasting and I had no idea how to turn the dang thing off.
“Help!” I called to the guy. “How do I turn this thing off?”
“Hit the button!”
“What button? Where?”
“The alarm button!”
We’re screeching over the blasting and honking of the alarm system and I have no idea where the alarm button…
Oh! Yeah! That red thing on my key!
Whew.
Used to be bored a lot – not any more. I bought the CD.