Stair Wars

As a member of our office’s Safety Team I not only get a snappy neon orange vest, glow sticks, food rations & a dorky bright red hat;  I also get the privilege of taking the stairs once every few months from my office (on the 27th floor) down to the lobby.  For, you know, practice and familiarity in case of emergencies. 

Tomorrow at 4:30 we’ll be doing a mass evacuation of the entire office.  It’s the first time this size evacuation has ever been practiced in our building.  Imagine if you will a narrow stair well and hundreds of out of shape secretaries, lawyers, and similar schlepping down at the same time.  It promises to be a grand ol’ time, let me tell you.  My job (which desperately needs a new name) is the Male Searcher.  True story.  It is my responsibility to check all the men’s restrooms on our floor in the event of an emergency to tell them (mid-business, mind you) to wrap it up and head to the stairs.  Since this is not going to be an actual emergency, I will require them (by the authority vested in me by my bright red hat) to wash their hands first.

Twenty-seven floors later, we will head to a designated meeting spot a few blocks away to find out how long it took for everyone to go home instead of coming to the designated meeting spot. 

And then the NEXT day, I’ll help move a couch and other furniture down 5 flights of stairs.  Not complaining, mind you, just mentally preparing. 

Y’all pray for me this weekend (or just send me some Advil).

-J

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3 Responses to “Stair Wars”

  1. popgun Says:

    Sounds like fun! The opportunity to tell a lawyer what to do! Without throwing money at him/her!

    -Popgun

  2. Tx Grandma Says:

    My only reply is how did you get to be part of the safety patrol? Grab the orange vest and glow sticks and run out while yelling this is an emergency follow ME out. Besides, in case of an actual emergency as soon as safety is reached your first order of business is to phone home.

  3. Amanda Says:

    Yes, the unpaid duties of a corporate job. I worked at a call center and we had several procedures to follow in case of emergencies. Our meeting area was directly in front of the building in a directive dirt lot with no trees, benches or chairs and to the dismay of addicts: no smoking. Which made me wonder if the building was actually on fire, why would we be standing this close to it? But what really freaked me out was a pamplet that they kept under the phones on our desks that read: In Case the Caller has a BOMB.

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