The
little red handle caught my
eye, same as it does every other
time I pass within
sight of it. This time, however, its call was not unheeded. With a quick
glance behind me --
nobody was in the
hall -- I reached over and pulled. With a nice satisfying
clamor, the
fire alarm went off. Immediately, the rest of the
office took
notice. The
sea of cubicles looked like a
prairie dog village with all the little heads poking up. The ensuing
panic was a sight to
behold. People began rushing everywhere, some trying to grab what they could, and others just attempting to save themselves. Few tried the
elevators, and the
stairway doors soon became home of mobs of hurried,
agitated people. One of the
managers didn't want to wait for the stairwells. It took some
effort, but his chair finally went through the window. His plummet
seven stories was
interrupted only by one not-very-well muffled
gasp, and a
tree. No one followed.
Ok, I didn't pull the alarm this time, but it made my afternoon more interesting thinking of doing so.