Terror on the Thirty-Third Floor

So. Apparently my new job is going to be nothing but non-stop adventure, with some phone answering and lewd looks in the elevator thrown in for good measure. I say this because yesterday, the fire alarm went off. Also, yesterday in the elevator when I got in, the lone male already occupying the car winked at me and then openly ogled me until I got off (the elevator. Get your minds out of the gutter).

And now, back to the ALARM. It was my lunch break, and I was happily anticipating sitting and reading and listening to loud music (so others wouldn't feel obliged to make conversation with me) after I finished a quick email. All of a sudden, this bell starts going off. It was advantageous that I had read the Emergency Procedures sheet the day before, and that I knew that the "fast pulse" (as opposed to the "slow pulse") meant get out now. Slow pulse, according to the sheet, means change your shoes, grab your jacket, and await further instructions. Fast pulse apparently means everyone panic and run for the stairs and leave the new girl to lock the gate by herself.

Since I had to stay behind to lock the gate, I was one of the last ones down the stairs, which was nice because I managed to avoid the crush of terrified office workers and had a leisurely stroll down thirty three flights of stairs, in a stairwell that was so hot I figured the fire was in it. By the time I got to the ground floor, all of my co-workers had disappeared, leaving me alone in a sea of confusion. I eventually found them. The firefighters gave the all clear, so we all trooped back into the building. After waiting ten minutes for an elevator (as there were a thousand people trying to get into one car every time the doors opened), we got to the front of the line, and when the doors opened, the car was already packed. My co-worker got in but I chose to wait for the next one. As you may have heard, I hate elevators, and if it's filled to capacity, there is no chance in hell of me getting on it. It turns out this was the best decision I made all day. Just after the doors closed, the alarm went off again, and the elevators all lost power and froze. It was only for a couple seconds, as they automatically return to the ground floor and lock when the fire bell goes off, but I think that would have been enough to end my day right there. Eventually the elevators got back on line, and we could all return to work. Aside from destroying my knuckles unlocking the gate, the rest of the day was largely uneventful.

I've been at this job for a week and have endured being stuck in an elevator and a fire alarm with a distinctly 9-11ish flair. I've learned that I'm not the only one who is uncomfortable in small spaces that are suspended high above the ground. I've learned that there's no such thing as an orderly mass evacuation, and I've learned that while walking down a million stairs is not as hard as walking up them, it still makes your legs scream the next day. I'm hoping there's no more lessons for while, because there's enough drama in my life right now.