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It Doesn't Stop
If I believed in the supernatural, I might suspect that a morally ambiguous but powerful entity out there amuses itself by complicating my life, possibly for the purpose of giving me something to write here.
Time's short, so here's the edited version of the last few days.
Teri, Sebastian, and I headed over to Pennsylvania on Friday to spend a long weekend with Teri's father. We got a bit of a late start, and were unable to find the mysterious wheat donuts of Poughkeepsie, but managed to get there in pretty good time nonetheless.
Fast-forward to Saturday afternoon. We'd been planning to leave on Sunday, but the TV said a nasty snowstorm was headed in our direction, and would sweep along our entire route home - starting probably sometime around midnight. So after dinner on Saturday night, we started for home. It was 8:30 PM.
We were awfully tired, though. Teri and I were both operating on HUGE sleep deficits. So when we hit Fishkill, NY at 12:30 AM we decided to stop at a hotel for the night, grab six hours of sleep, and head on back for home the next morning. It would be about another 3-4 hours, depending on the traffic and weather.
Even with a AAA discount the room was expensive ($119.50 with tax), but we were in no mood to argue. We headed up to the third floor, tucked Sebastian into bed (he never woke up), and hit the sack at 1AM. The mattress was really comfortable, so after a few minutes I settled down to sleep.
And suddenly:
WHAM!
A strobe light was blasting the room: ONOFFONOFF. The loudest alarm I'd ever heard was blasting from the ceiling. Flames were all around us, filling the doorway. There was no way out.
Okay, no need to improve this story. There were no flames. But we were being visually and aurally blasted by the most intense fire alarm I've ever experienced. The baby sat up, but to my amazement did not cry. Teri got up, too. It was 3:05 AM.
Moving fast, I jumped into my clothes, grabbed our largest bags and the baby, told Teri to follow me, and headed down the stairs. Everyone else in the hotel was getting out too, because the alarm wasn't just for our room - it was for the whole hotel. I got down early, put Sebastian in the car (it was parked right next to the exit), and started it up. By the time Teri got down the heat was starting to kick in. Sebastian still hadn't cried.
I moved the car away from the hotel a bit, after looking around carefully to make sure that there wasn't a fire truck in the way (I didn't want to interfere with firefighters). Then I got out and went to stand with the crowd in front of the hotel. No one was naked, if you were wondering, but we all looked like people who had dressed really quickly. For example, I had no socks under my sneakers, and although I had a jacket and t-shirt on, my shirt was back in the room. Of course I had my pants. Some kids were wrapped in blankets.
We all stood around wondering what was going on, while the whole hotel flashed off and on like a Christmas ornament. One person mentioned that the same thing had happened to them at a hotel in Alaska. It felt as cold as Alaska in that parking lot. People chatted amiably; it's funny how something like that gets people to talk to each other when they normally wouldn't exchange a word.
Fire engines eventually arrived, and after about half an hour we were told to come into the lobby. I got Teri and the baby and we went in, too. We had to wait in the lobby for a while as the firemen walked around a checked everything. After a while, six men in strange uniforms came into the room, carrying machine-guns.
"Greetings," said the apparent leader. "You are all hearby subject to martial law under the command of Supreme Generalissimo Bush. VIVA LA BUSH!"
We all stared, dumbfounded.
"You, you, you and you," continued the thug, pointing, "you are enemies of the state. The sentence is death." A young family including a three-year old tow-headed boy clutching a teddy bear was dragged out into the cold by four of the gunmen. The rattle of automatic fire from outside spoke eloquently of their fate, chilling our blood.
Heh. Okay, I really should stop with the fictional additions, because some of you may now be doubting my whole story. Where was I? Oh yes. We were in the lobby and the firemen were checking everything. After a while we were told it was okay to get back to our rooms, so we did.
Unfortunately Sebastian was now A W A K E. It took only a few minutes to be sure of it, but he was clearly not going back to sleep. So we packed up everything and went back downstairs for a refund. The girl at the desk was quite nice about it, and a little before 4AM we were back on the road. Still no snow.
We made it home at around 7AM Sunday morning, and the storm hit us a little after noon. There was only one casualty: Frosty. The mighty snowman did not survive. His stakes had disappeared, and without those vital supports he simply could not withstand the force of the wind, or even of gravity. So I picked him up and dumped him on the big swing in the back yard for the winter.
And that's about it!
Time's short, so here's the edited version of the last few days.
Teri, Sebastian, and I headed over to Pennsylvania on Friday to spend a long weekend with Teri's father. We got a bit of a late start, and were unable to find the mysterious wheat donuts of Poughkeepsie, but managed to get there in pretty good time nonetheless.
Fast-forward to Saturday afternoon. We'd been planning to leave on Sunday, but the TV said a nasty snowstorm was headed in our direction, and would sweep along our entire route home - starting probably sometime around midnight. So after dinner on Saturday night, we started for home. It was 8:30 PM.
We were awfully tired, though. Teri and I were both operating on HUGE sleep deficits. So when we hit Fishkill, NY at 12:30 AM we decided to stop at a hotel for the night, grab six hours of sleep, and head on back for home the next morning. It would be about another 3-4 hours, depending on the traffic and weather.
Even with a AAA discount the room was expensive ($119.50 with tax), but we were in no mood to argue. We headed up to the third floor, tucked Sebastian into bed (he never woke up), and hit the sack at 1AM. The mattress was really comfortable, so after a few minutes I settled down to sleep.
And suddenly:
A strobe light was blasting the room: ONOFFONOFF. The loudest alarm I'd ever heard was blasting from the ceiling. Flames were all around us, filling the doorway. There was no way out.
Okay, no need to improve this story. There were no flames. But we were being visually and aurally blasted by the most intense fire alarm I've ever experienced. The baby sat up, but to my amazement did not cry. Teri got up, too. It was 3:05 AM.
Moving fast, I jumped into my clothes, grabbed our largest bags and the baby, told Teri to follow me, and headed down the stairs. Everyone else in the hotel was getting out too, because the alarm wasn't just for our room - it was for the whole hotel. I got down early, put Sebastian in the car (it was parked right next to the exit), and started it up. By the time Teri got down the heat was starting to kick in. Sebastian still hadn't cried.
I moved the car away from the hotel a bit, after looking around carefully to make sure that there wasn't a fire truck in the way (I didn't want to interfere with firefighters). Then I got out and went to stand with the crowd in front of the hotel. No one was naked, if you were wondering, but we all looked like people who had dressed really quickly. For example, I had no socks under my sneakers, and although I had a jacket and t-shirt on, my shirt was back in the room. Of course I had my pants. Some kids were wrapped in blankets.
We all stood around wondering what was going on, while the whole hotel flashed off and on like a Christmas ornament. One person mentioned that the same thing had happened to them at a hotel in Alaska. It felt as cold as Alaska in that parking lot. People chatted amiably; it's funny how something like that gets people to talk to each other when they normally wouldn't exchange a word.
Fire engines eventually arrived, and after about half an hour we were told to come into the lobby. I got Teri and the baby and we went in, too. We had to wait in the lobby for a while as the firemen walked around a checked everything. After a while, six men in strange uniforms came into the room, carrying machine-guns.
"Greetings," said the apparent leader. "You are all hearby subject to martial law under the command of Supreme Generalissimo Bush. VIVA LA BUSH!"
We all stared, dumbfounded.
"You, you, you and you," continued the thug, pointing, "you are enemies of the state. The sentence is death." A young family including a three-year old tow-headed boy clutching a teddy bear was dragged out into the cold by four of the gunmen. The rattle of automatic fire from outside spoke eloquently of their fate, chilling our blood.
Heh. Okay, I really should stop with the fictional additions, because some of you may now be doubting my whole story. Where was I? Oh yes. We were in the lobby and the firemen were checking everything. After a while we were told it was okay to get back to our rooms, so we did.
Unfortunately Sebastian was now A W A K E. It took only a few minutes to be sure of it, but he was clearly not going back to sleep. So we packed up everything and went back downstairs for a refund. The girl at the desk was quite nice about it, and a little before 4AM we were back on the road. Still no snow.
We made it home at around 7AM Sunday morning, and the storm hit us a little after noon. There was only one casualty: Frosty. The mighty snowman did not survive. His stakes had disappeared, and without those vital supports he simply could not withstand the force of the wind, or even of gravity. So I picked him up and dumped him on the big swing in the back yard for the winter.
And that's about it!
Supernatural amusement ay?
(Anonymous) 2003-12-17 04:32 am (UTC)(link)Where on earth did you even get that thought? You didn't by any chance wrap your head with tin folio while it happened? You are absolutely right to dismiss superstitious thoughts. Nobody controls fate. It is impossible to influence coincidences. Your mind is not being controlled by others. You are a totally independent agent. You should forget paranoid fantasies. Now forget this comment and move along citizen.