Alarm: Here for It, #357

Hi! It's R. Eric Thomas. From the internet?
Hi!

Around 10:30 this morning, I was debating getting myself together to go about my normal Sunday routing of chaos, confusion and cutting up; hooting and then hollering; ruckus among us. Yknow, shenanigans.

I was listening to Kasey Musgrave's "A Deeper Well" as one is wont to do. Suddenly, something seemed off. I heard this sort of honk-like sound. At first I thought my humidifier was acting a fool, yknow, showing out. Tomfoolery and the like. But then I listened harder and realized the sound was repetitive. I was like, Kasey, is this a remix? What's happening here? And then I realized: it was my building's emergency alarm.

LOL at me trying to throw some ass in a circle to the Emergency Broadcast System announcements... Honestly, a serve but also, crucially, a cry for help.

It's not my fault, though. The alarm was coming from the hallway, which maybe is the way that my building alarms. It was different from the fire alarm system in the apartment and I haven't really heard this particular alarm before. It was moderately loud siren, interrupted by an announcement. The thing is, it wasn't even that urgent an alarm. It wasn't clanging pots and pans, like, "Molly you in danger girl." Instead it was like, "Beep, beep, toot toot. Hey bestie, it's me. A voice you've never heard. Small change of plans, gurl. Take the stairs, hon. No worries if not."

Me:

In the words of Corrinne Barely Rae, a drag queen persona I just made up, "gworl, turn your records off!"

Just last night, my friend who lives in the building also, told me that there was another false alarm so I wasn't worried per se. But you're not about to catch me out here in a Chicken Little situation. I did not descend from many generations of anxious people to get got by a Boy Who Cried Wolf-ing. You tell me something's amiss and my response is, "I KNEW IT!"

I hustled to put on some clothes right quick and I made a mental note to write a friendly suggestion to the management company. "Beep, beep, toot toot. Hey bestie, it's me. R. Eric Thomas. From the internet? Yeah, just saying if the alarm can be confused for the plaintive sounds of Kacey Musgraves, maybe you want to crank the ole volume a bit."

Because this was, as the news be saying, a developing situation, I just grabbed the closest clothes at hand, which turned out to be a pair of workout pants and a sweatshirt that, while cute, did not match at all. This whispering-ass alarm got me out in the streets looking chopped!

There was an option, of course, to stand in the lobby with some of my neighbors while the fire department checked things out, but the streets were calling and I had an empty tote bag, so I needed to go do some unnecessary spending at the kitchen supply store. But, wow, did I look a hot mess. I can't be running errands looking nuts. What about TMZ, darling?

I simply wasn't shenanigans-ready. I hadn't put cucumbers on my eyes; I hadn't rouged my knees. Just calamitous. So this is a lesson to you. When you wake up, don't putter around in the morning, immediately you put on a full face, like you're Miss Piggy, and prepare for anything. You know what they say, dress for the disaster you don't want to happen.

In related news, this escapade is the third time I've had a run-in with an apartment building alarm. The first time was late at night and I took great interest in finding out what all my neighbor's pajamas look like. I can't find the newsletter post about that alas, but here's the second one--an early pandemic situation featuring a jumpsuit I no longer own and beard I no longer have.

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Lol at this photo the Arcamax editors chose! Someone get this model's agent on the phone. She is a STAR!

"gworl, turn your records off!",
Eric