We had a fire drill at work today. That's not meant as a dopey corporate euphemism for some urgent project – I mean an actual practice for exiting the building in case of an emergency. It was a surprise drill for most people, but not me since I am our floor's fire warden.This duty was bestowed upon me recently when Jennifer, the former warden, moved to new position on another floor. A few months ago Jen did a great favor by recommending me for my current job. So when she asked if I'd be interested taking over the role, I felt more than a little obligated to help her avoid the task of convincing someone else.
While I prefer to think my proven leadership skills and ability to remain cool in a crisis helped me earn the floor warden position, I think the primary qualification was being tall enough to see over the rows of cubicles. Also my voice has been known to carry amazing distances when others' safety is concerned or when I've had a few belts of whiskey and need to share something "hilarious".
Please don't misunderstand – I accept and perform the fire warden duties with all the appropriate seriousness. Perhaps more than most places, we in Chicago are exceedingly cautious when it comes to the dangers of fire. But I also I consider the role to a bit like the hall monitor in grade school. There's no extra material reward for going above and beyond in this case, but we're here 40 hours a week anyway so I might as well wring a few drops of recognition and authority wherever possible, right? Plus, yeah, it's a flattering charge to think that people would actually depend on me in a real emergency.
At the very least, I expect this job will be an interesting test of the belief that ladies love a man in uniform. A tall, boisterous lout in a DayGlo cap and vest is a far cry from the traditional knight in shining armor image, but it'll do for now.
[Note: Alternative hacky title for this post: "Orange You Glad I Didn't Take Another Month Off?"]
3 comments:
I like the alternate title more. For whatever reason (maybe the thought of being in charge of a floor of people) this reminded me of being an RA. Thanks for the memory.
When I was Fire Warden for our floor, we had a person (alright, he was strange before this happened) lock himself in a stall in the men's bathroom and REFUSE to come out. We had the Fire Marshall from the Chicago Police Department come to talk to this guy. It took several minutes to convince him to come out of the stall. He stated that he "didn't feel like walking down all those stairs just for a drill".
Hopefully, you won't have any kooks on your floor.
I'm so proud of you John, that you've had this honor bestowed upon you. By any chance.. does it come with a special pocket protector..or safety goggles to complete the ensemble?
I know you'll make us proud!!
Love,
Aunt Corry
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