Day 133 - Disaster Day

Last night, I went to see the movie "Cloverfield" with my lover...I mean...friend, Paul. The movie was entertaining enough for the disaster/monster genre. I did miss seeing little Japanese people running away from the creature, so I put down my popcorn and Paul's hand and ran up and down the aisle screaming "Not Godzilla, but rook rike Godzilla!"

I knew about the handheld camera gimmick that runs through the movie and even read the articles detailing audience members getting motion sickness. I have never got sick at the movies -- not even at the IMAX 3d presentation of "The Blair Witch Project." But I honestly got a headache watching "Cloverfield." Perhaps it was eating a little too much popcorn, but towards the end of the 85 minute movie I had to close my eyes several times to give my mind a rest. And as if 85 minutes of jerky camera work isn't enough, you also had to deal with strobe lights and intense sound.

Speaking of strobe lights and intense sound, Lisa had to contend with her own disaster at home: the fire alarm went off. I left home at 9:30pm for the 10:05pm showing of "Cloverfield." When I left, both kids were fast asleep and Lisa rested on the sofa watching television. But just as my disaster movie started in the theater, Lisa's disaster also began.

A little after 10pm, a piercing noise rang through our complex. The fire alarm sounded off. It's not one of those polite buzzes asking you to evacuate calmly; it is a wailing cry signaling the end of mankind. Lisa looked up and down the condo hallway and saw various people in various state of dress leaving their condos. There was no way Lisa would be able to leave the top floor of the complex with our double stroller if the elevators were not working, so she grabbed the diaper bag and the car seats.

When she went to check on the kids, Emma was of course crying. But since Emma's cry is so similar to the wail of the fire alarm, Andrew was fast asleep. Lisa strapped them into their car seats, slung the diaper bag around her shoulder, and left our abode.

Walking down the hallway, someone told Lisa that there wasn't a fire. What happened was that there was a party in the recreation room and someone accidentally triggered the sprinkler. But Lisa said the alarm was so loud, she would rather just hang out in the lobby until the fire department came to deactivate the system.

Thankfully, the elevators were still operating. She took the elevator down and began her long walk to the lobby. For those of you not familiar to our complex, it's relatively large. As you get buzzed through the front doors, you enter a lobby that is the first building of the complex. But to get to our building, you must exit the lobby, go down some stairs, pass the pool, pass the bbq area, pass the rec room, go up some stairs, walk another 50-75 yards, pass a Forever 21, pass the Food Court, and then enter another building to take the elevator to the top floor where we are at.

So imagine poor little Lisa lugging the diaper bag with 20 pounds in one hand (Andrew in a car seat) and 75 pounds in the other (Emma in a car seat) trying to make it to the lobby. She assumed one person passing by would volunteer to help her, but none did. As typical of my lovely wife, she politely sounded off to the crowd, "WILL SOMEONE HELP ME?!?!" And of course a frightened young man afraid of Lisa's potential wrath helped carry Emma to the lobby.

Upon reaching the lobby, the young man put Emma down stating, "Wow...she's a heifer." After 15 minutes, the fire department arrived and deactivated the alarm. Lisa readied herself to trek back up to our condo, but this time someone volunteered to help Lisa carry the kids to the elevator without Lisa having to resort to the tried and true "WILL SOMEONE HELP ME?!?!"

I returned home from the movie around 11:45pm. At first glance, everything looked exactly the way I left it: the kids were asleep, it was quiet, and Lisa was on the sofa watching television. Upon closer examination, there was one tell tale sign that something was wrong: Lisa's evil, darting eyes. And if I initially thought my disaster for the day was "Cloverfield", boy was I wrong. That Cloverfield monster was probably never married.