This post might save your life

I'd just like to take a second today, to have a little talk about fire alarms.

Now. Like many, my first introduction to the fire alarm was when an alarmingly wide bear came to talk to us in primary school about fire and the alarms thereof. Not a real bear. Sadly. If a bear really came to talk to us, I have a feeling the topic of conversation wouldn't actually be paramount to our entertainment. Anyway, for some reason, this bear (Tony The Fire Bear, or similar) was really, really interested in our being good at investigating kitchens, standing on chairs and pressing buttons. Which was funny, because almost every other adult at the time was telling us quite firmly not to do any of these things.

My second introduction was later on in primary school where, apparently having abandoned the fool-proof bear method, the school instead instructed us to crawl through a tent that had been filled with smoke, and get to the exit. Outside. A massive smoke filled tent. When you're ten. Like a ninja. Instead of doing maths. Now I dont know about anyone else in that class, but I spent most of the next couple of weeks looking hopefully at the stove whenever my dad cooked bacon.

My third introduction was some time after this, when I was about 15, I cooked some sausages on my grill (hold on, it gets even better). Why you ask? Because I wanted some sausages. Oh sorry, you didn't- I thought you asked, never mind. Anyway, I was making these sausages, turned away to look fleetingly at a flower perhaps, or a soft and lovely napkin, and when I moved my eyes back the oven was on fire. I stood looking at it for a moment, stangely sober, and then tried quite hard to remember which type of fire it was that made the girl on the advert have her face all burned off when she poured water on it. Chip pan fire, right. I wasn't making chips. But wait- does that advert mean just chips? Or things in pans? or.. or.. a specific type of oil? Oh God. Oh God I dont know. And it turns out there's nothing quite like having an oven casually on fire in the background to make your thoughts less than laser precise.I got the phone, and hesitated for a moment. The fire waited patiently. Did I call 999, or my Mum? Who would consider themselves the expert on things of this matter?
'Hello, Kay Ralph?'
'Hi Mum,'
'Hi Tash. '
'Hi. Erm.-'
'You're up are you? Finally? Have you fed the dog?'
'Well- yes. Yes, but Mum'
'Dont give him the cheese thats on the side.'
I looked at the side. The cheese had melted and was turning a blackened grey.
'No I won't. Mum. Mum- the oven's on fire.'
'What?'
'The oven's on fire.'
'The oven's on fire?'
I suddenly got a strange urge to turn this into a song and launch into a chorus of 'ohhh the oven's on fire and what can ya dooo'. Luckily, I resisted.
'Oh my God. OK. Get out of the house. Get Barney. Get Barney and get out of the house.
I looked at the oven. It looked happily back at me.
'It doesn't seem to be spreading, Mum.'
'It, it doesn't, oh god. Ok, Ok, listen to me.'

She then proceeded to guide me through a process I now cannot quite recall (probably due to some horrible mind trauma repression) which ended in me pressing a button and the fire going out- if only I'd listened to Tony back then, maybe I wouldn't even have needed help. Damn ninja replacement system.

Anyway, my point is, though you've probably already guessed it, fire alarms are fun. Which is why when, last night in Claycroft (a halls of residence at my Uni) when the fire alarm went off, I happily donned some boots, grabbed my keys and jaunted off to the exit. The fact that it also meant interuppting my watching of 'Bedtime Stories'- the worst Adam Sandler film since the last Adam Sandler film (think Nights at the Museum with slightly less money), was another reason for the spring in my step.
Me and my friends Katherine and Annalisa stood outside the building and breathed in the cooling night air. This, apparently, was the worst possible thing we could have done. The Offical Fire Woman of the building, who had mysteriously been yelling at a tree for the previous five minutes, stormed up to us and yelled 'what are you doing here? hmmm? this isn't the regulated fire spot!' She sounded very official, and her face was full of angry officialness. Unfortunatly, she was wearing a baby pink dressing gown with a floral design, some hairy slippers and very little else. Maybe she thought if she shouted loud enough, she's shout some clothes on.
'I have no idea where that is.' I said, very truthfully.
Her face turned red enough to almost be its own hat (almost).
'It's ROUND THE CORNER!' she yelled.
Now I don't do very well with people who are very rude for no reason.
'Ok, well THANKS FOR ALL THE HELP!' I shouted back and smiling at her hat-face off we skipped to the area where fire couldnt penetrate. Unlike where we were standing originally, which was by a large lake.

So, arriving at the Designated Fire Area, which stood proudly in its captial letters, we made casual friends with others who were victims of the fire. I thought about saying how I bet this was the kind of sitation that made people in concentration camps make friends. But then I didn't. Instead I stood making narky comments that amused me and me alone, and waited for my friend in the pink to show up. She did. It turned out, shockingly, that not everything on the world was on fire, and we could go back in. As we started to heave back, an official man in a glowly coat asked loudly 'who is in room 30, block A?'. A sinister silence fell. Slowly, as we all watched with judging eyes, a girl in a beige coat and confused and shocked expression lifted a hand shakingly. The perpetrator. Being as angry as we could be for a group of people who weren't saying or doing anything, we began to drift off. And the girl was taken away, presumably to be punished by Fire Woman opening her robe in front of her.

This story has a point, and it is this. On the way back to the building, I found 20p on the ground. I picked it up, and put it in my pocket. I might put it towards a bag of crisps. See what good come of fire alarms? Oh and also, on the day I burnt the oven down, mum got us another puppy to calm us all down. Probably should have mentioned that earlier.

YakAttack