An Introvert’s Guide to Fire Alarms
Welcome to BSU, home of the most inconvenient f***ing fire alarms this side of the Mississippi!
Now I know you must be thinking, is that a written swear in an Introvert’s Guide??
Yes, yes it is.
Because this was just that crazy.
As I was leaving ECC after a lovely post-gym dinner with a friend of mine, we hear the (always) unpleasant sound of the Weygand fire alarm. Thinking nothing of it, we went “man, that sucks”. Then I suddenly remembered:
MY CAT.
(Coming soon, An Introvert’s Guide to an Emotionally Unsupportive ESA.)
Suddenly, in a burst of speed previously unknown to me, I was booking my asthmatic self down the to Weygand, only to be stopped short by the brand new fountain feature installed in the entrance.
I stood there for a single second before letting loose a confused, panicked cry of “WHY THE F*** IS THERE WATER???”
Frantically whipping my head back and forth, I saw the fire exit open. I rushed towards it, only to be stopped by the person opening the door who told not to go up, to which I responded:
“I HAVE A CAT!!” as I pushed past, then “SHE HAS ANXIETY!”
As my asthmatic self bolted up five flights of stairs, screaming for people to get out of my way cause I’m goin’ up, I recalled those stories of mothers who, in times of need, could lift a car to protect their child.
On the way we ran into two more of my friends, who followed us up to help with grabbing Alice (my anxiety-ridden cat). Finally reaching my room, we all pushed in. Now, whenever I grab her carrier, she has the tendency to bolt, as being in the carrier always means a car ride, and she does not like cars.
So, the genius I am decided to grab her and try to shove her face first into the side of the cat backpack.
This did not work.
The second try with assistance from good long time friend, Duncan, worked out much better by putting her through the front, and he grabbed her while I grabbed my inhaler and anxiety meds.
Running back out of my room, I stopped as I was faced with my two friends….and some guy?
As when faced with the fountain, there was a fraction of a second in my panicked brain where I had time to ask myself: Who are you?
I wouldn’t find out until later this was Mike. Turns out my friend who ran up with me had the same question while I was trying to unsuccessfully stuff my cat into a mesh side pouch.
Hey Mike.
Heading back to the staircase, cat and drugs in hand, I reached my hand out to Duncan.
Now, please keep this one fact in mind.
I have known this man for a majority of my life, and he is without a doubt one of my oldest friends. He was, however, my brother’s friend first. Therefore the two have a lot of similar traits.
This man looked at me as I was heaving for air with an outstretched hand, and with the kindest, most understanding look, gently put his hand over my hand.
I have never been more baffled.
Immediately flipping my hand in his grip and smacking his hand down, I disbelieving exclaimed,
“Give me my goddamn cat.”
Like, thanks for the comfort man but I want my cat that I just ran up five flights of stairs for.
Later my friend asked me if he was trying to make a move.
No he wasn’t. He’s just weird.
In the end, we rescued the cat, and all was well. And there’s no way Weygand would have two fire alarms in a week, right?
Right?
…f***ing fire alarms…
