At 10:10 this morning, the National Weather System issued a nationwide weather drill (or maybe it was just city-wide? I dunno). The sirens outside went off, and the safety committee at the office had a goal to get everyone into the mailroom within 20 seconds.
Now, you'll recall that last year I took an excruciating 2 minutes to get there, stopping for a donut and a can of pop on the way. This year, I never made it at all. I had an "urge" to go to the bathroom at 10:09, and so off I went. I took my sweet time -- turns out the faucets in there are really limed up bad! -- and when I came out at 10:15, the meeting was over.
"There you are! You're supposed to be dead!"
"You would be all blow'd up!"
One guy was with me. He'd been outside smoking and missed it as well. "Easy now, he was in the Number Two shelter. Probably safer than the mailroom anyway."
"You bet." I answered.
I don't like practicing things. I like doing things. I quit playing organized sports mid-way through high school even though I was rather decent because I hated practice. Loved games, hated practice. I'll be in the mailroom in a scant 10 seconds in a real emergency. Know where it is. Go there everyday. But not in a drill.
You bet.
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