FIRE!

We had a fire drill at work today. This was without a doubt the worst group of staff I have ever ‘drilled with, and that includes the moronic pimply teens I once worked with at Hoyts. It took over fifteen minutes for everyone on our floor to peel themselves away from their desks and congregate in the foyer near the elevators. It took another twenty minutes for everyone to walk the nineteen flights of stairs down the dingy fire escape (with some wanker behind me making “whooo” ghost noises the. entire. time.). The prospect of being engulfed in flames was almost preferable.

The entire affair was underwhelming, because what’s a fire drill without action, suspense and excitement? I have only ever known two people who have treated the almighty fire drill with the appropriate reverence and haste. The first is Arnold Schwarzenegger in his role as Det. John Kimble in Kindergarten Cop (“Eet’s a fire, yooo eediot!”).

The second is Mrs Flynn, my year eight science teacher. Momentary derail: I have many fond memories of sitting in the back row of her class with my friend Crystal, and busily covering the lab bench with graffiti. We did this mainly to curry favour with Mrs Flynn with our M.O. being as follows: At the end of the lesson we would point out our newly laid graffiti to Mrs Flynn and exclaim disapprovingly, “Look what someone did to the bench!”

She would always study the graffiti and sigh and say, “Thank you for telling me, girls.” She would then fetch the Ajax from under her desk and Crystal and I would offer to scrub the graffiti off for her. When we were done, Mrs Flynn always praised us for being such considerate girls and fumed about the inky handed culprit remaining at large.

It seems mean now, but at the time I felt totally justified in my actions (the hag had given me an undeserved 0.5 out of 10 on a science project at the beginning of the year, and revenge is a dish best served daily with a permanent marker). Besides, as a woman of science don’t you agree that she should have been able to make some basic inferences about what was going on here? Granted, this is a woman who was both delighted and baffled by Tamagotchis (they were the rage at the time), but… yeesh.

Anyway, so one afternoon Crystal and I are chilling in the back, scribbling away, and the fire alarm sounds. Everyone scrapes their chairs back and makes for the door as per the established fire drill guidelines, but Mrs Flynn has her own protocol. “HIT THE FLOOR!!!” she wails.
Everyone just stops and stands completely still, gaping at her. After a second, a couple of students slowly start to kneel down on the cold linoleum, looking around with uncertainty, waiting for others to follow. Realising what she’s said, Mrs Flynn looks momentarily flustered and a little bit puzzled, but makes an epic recovery. “NO!” she barks, “CLOSE THE WINDOWS!”

It was the best fire drill ever.