Friday, October 28, 2005

Where there's smoke....


Today, there was a fire in my boss’s office. In case you don’t already know, I work at a company where we are defined by our bosses (my email address is JMANasst, JMAN being my boss’s initials and “asst” signaling that I’m his assistant). The bosses are (rightfully) treated with deference, respect and care. Thus, an inferno in the boss’s office is something that is, to understate, not to be desired.

So here’s the story: I’m sitting at my desk when I hear two of my fellow assts say, “What smells like burning?”

I concur that there is a singed smell in the air, and grow more concerned. No one else really seems to be. As my boss’s office is the place where I’d be most upset/appalled if there were a fire, I dash in there to make sure all is well. All is not well. A book (“Ben Hogan” by our client Jim Dodson) has apparently grown bored of its role as sentry on top of the bookshelf. It decided to take a little hop, and plop into the bowl of the halogen lamp just below it, where it decided to take a nap, open, on top of the red hot bulb.

Smoke ensued. Embers ensued. Scorching ensued.

I rush in, once disaster has been located, and grab Ben Hogan from the lamp. Then, the situation is: book is burning. Book is now in my hand.

I begin to panic, as I look around the office at the plethora of combustibles, and the lack of water.

There is by now a gaggle of rubbernecks standing around, and I shout, “Someone get some water!” (Reminiscent of my CPR training: call 911! Get an AED! Bring it back to me!) Luckily, a coworker has a bottle of water on her desk, which she fetches. We put the smoldering book into a recycle bin, and doused it with water.

Then, the head of Office Services sends out an email saying that it’s building policy to have coverings on halogen lamps. Then, the head of the NY office sends out an email that says that not only is it company policy, it is IMPERATIVE that we do this because everyone in the building ALMOST DIED TODAY.

Then every single person that walks by makes comments like, “Nice Fire!” or, “Hey, did you see that memo about the halogen lamps?”

3 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

that beats my story of the car on fire in front of my house, by a hair, cuz you actually handled the flaming object. however, i will say, i bet my blaze was blazier than yours. remind me to show you the pictures... i feared for my life (a little)!!

7:02 PM

 
Blogger Two Shoes said...

Well, if we are going to be comparing fire stories, I might as well tell you how the wood-fired pizza restaurant across the street from my flat burst into a huge fireball a few days after we moved in. Sniffing the charred scent, I thought it was some kind of massive BBQ, but no. And, in addition, they lied about it whilst they carried out renovations, saying the repairs were due to flooding (they left out the detail that the flooding was due to having doused a massive wood fire fueled blaze). But yes, I agree, your story is much more impressive for the personal handling of dangerous flames. You are so brave and heroic, Char Par.

9:39 PM

 
Anonymous Anonymous said...

so i didn't get to handle char's boss's flaming book, but i did get to hold char's boss's BABY! ha. maybe even booya.

4:10 AM

 

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