Yesterday was kind of a weird day. First off it started with a rain of slush and muck that bounced the existing slush and muck all over the sidewalk. Fortunately I was wearing my new Century 21 boots ($30, baby) and scrunched right over the worst of it.
Then, around noon I was heading out for my lunchtime… lunching.. and no sooner had I pushed the elevator button to summon my vehicle of descent does the CEO walk up. And no sooner has that happened but the loudspeaker crackles and some fire warden guy asks all personnel to stand by something *mumble crackle* something mezzanine mutter.
So, we took the stairs. Me, low ranking temp-ish production person, and CEO. Stomp stomp stomp, turn, stomp stomp stomp. We have the “So, you work for me” conversation. That takes up about 3 floors. Then the “Look at these historically interesting bannisters”. Floor and a half, max. Then it is just painful awkwardness for 16 floors until other people start filing out into the staircase because apparently they’re evacuating the building now and I just left my iPod upstairs to melt.
There were lots of fire trucks, couple of photographers, and eventually the entire office building was huddled under the arches directly adjacent to the building. I have to figure if it were a real coming-out-of-the-building fire, they’d have shoo’d us away, but New Yorkers are notorious for deciding they’d just rather stay put, thanks, since they have such a cherry spot by the ashtray bin thing.
By 1:30 they’d sent us all home, saying the electrical whatsit was going to take hours to fix. And by the time the office reopened at 3 I was snuggled up with Ms. Gracie for an epic nap that covered not one but 2 episodes of the West Wing.
So to recap
1. Life is Fra-gi-lay
2. People Take Fire Seriously in Lower Manhattan
3. Do not say “I’m working here through at least March” to a CEO who has only just realized who you are
4. Never leave your iPod and cell phone behind – it has led to two straight commutes full of rage at the audacity of people who don’t realize that my back hurts or who – god help us all – FILE THEIR NAILS on public transit so we all inhale their cuticle dust.