Last year, once we moved into a renovated Davenport with brand-spanking-new 1,000-decibel fire alarms, we happy few experienced the joy of D'port's unbeatable fire warning system.
"Happy" isn't quite right, actually, since many of these fire alarms took place at 3:30 AM, or in the rain, or in the snow, or when we just had something better to do than stand in the courtyard in various states of dishabille and bitch about how loud and obnoxious the sirens were. It was, however, a time of bonding, a time when D'porters young and old could gather together in the freezing nights, huddle for warmth, and threaten death to the parties responsible. And then there were the post-alarm lockouts...
We had a taste of good old D'port here this morning. I'd gone to bed at 1:30 AM and set my clock for 8, but then hit the snooze button for a few more minutes of semi-sleep. The sun was only just coming up, anyway, and heck, it was Friday. Five minutes later, the sirens started blaring. Knowing that they only test the system on Tuesday mornings and that no one would be stupid enough to pull an alarm on Friday, most of us grabbed coats and pants and headed outside. It was quite a fashion show - some fortunate ones were fully dressed and shod, while others wore interesting mismashes of pajamas and streetwear. A few were in boxer shorts or bathrobes. Twenty minutes later, when the firemen gave the all-clear, we stampeded inside. Some headed back to bed, but for many of us, the dawn temperature shock had done the trick better than any cup of coffee.
Apparently, someone had been drying her hair directly underneath the smoke detector. Note to self...
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