I’ve got two cans of soup in my desk drawer.
I told Sandra the other day that if she should ever be stranded in this skyscraper of a building, I’ll bet there’s all kinds of goodies in them thar offices.
She laughed because she thinks I’m kidding.
She’s cute like that.
Me? I’m not that kind of cute and I'm not kidding. I have two cans of the aforesaid soup, seven pairs of shoes (U.S. size 7 ½, aka “38” in Europe and “5” in the UK, if anyone wants to work out the ninja-style attack methods best suited for a small-ish heel), a stack of mismatched take-out napkins, a list of the new songs I need for my iPod, and a small hill of salt and pepper packets.
I also have a five-year I-can’t-believe-you-still-work-here glass sculpture that could double as a weapon.
Those who know me well know that I have a wide morbid streak. While others see bucolic, tree-lined country roads, for example, leading no doubt to a lovely encounter with a doe and her fawn, I see ancient and possibly angry trees leaning over paths that eventually lead one to a man who will tie you up and make stringy yet flavorful jerky out of you.
Or show you the way back in to town. Some days, I could go either way.
With that in mind, I have an emergency plan for my being stranded in an office tower. (Please note that this plan has me alone, for some reason. The plan that includes co-workers is pretty much the same, minus the screaming. I do have a reputation to uphold, you know.)
Day One starts with screaming. Lots and lots of screaming. Possibly some running up and down the halls. Then I take a nap, followed by looking for a breath mint. I check out all the fridges, carefully propping open the doors to the staircases that lead to other floors.
Then I take another nap.
Actually, that’s all I’ve got, the screaming and the napping. I have resolved, however, to lay in a couple more provisions, including a fresh change of undies and some tinted moisturizer.
I’m going to want to look refreshed for when they interview my thankful self on the Today Show.
I told Sandra the other day that if she should ever be stranded in this skyscraper of a building, I’ll bet there’s all kinds of goodies in them thar offices.
She laughed because she thinks I’m kidding.
She’s cute like that.
Me? I’m not that kind of cute and I'm not kidding. I have two cans of the aforesaid soup, seven pairs of shoes (U.S. size 7 ½, aka “38” in Europe and “5” in the UK, if anyone wants to work out the ninja-style attack methods best suited for a small-ish heel), a stack of mismatched take-out napkins, a list of the new songs I need for my iPod, and a small hill of salt and pepper packets.
I also have a five-year I-can’t-believe-you-still-work-here glass sculpture that could double as a weapon.
Those who know me well know that I have a wide morbid streak. While others see bucolic, tree-lined country roads, for example, leading no doubt to a lovely encounter with a doe and her fawn, I see ancient and possibly angry trees leaning over paths that eventually lead one to a man who will tie you up and make stringy yet flavorful jerky out of you.
Or show you the way back in to town. Some days, I could go either way.
With that in mind, I have an emergency plan for my being stranded in an office tower. (Please note that this plan has me alone, for some reason. The plan that includes co-workers is pretty much the same, minus the screaming. I do have a reputation to uphold, you know.)
Day One starts with screaming. Lots and lots of screaming. Possibly some running up and down the halls. Then I take a nap, followed by looking for a breath mint. I check out all the fridges, carefully propping open the doors to the staircases that lead to other floors.
Then I take another nap.
Actually, that’s all I’ve got, the screaming and the napping. I have resolved, however, to lay in a couple more provisions, including a fresh change of undies and some tinted moisturizer.
I’m going to want to look refreshed for when they interview my thankful self on the Today Show.
30 comments:
The Today Show-- you are always looking ahead. Well, planning is everything.
Read the title and the first words that popped into my head were: "you haven't tried hard enough". Funny, I used to have nightmares where I was the only survivor in our office tower.
I was glad to see the word "Almost" in your title. When I come to visit I don't want to have to see you in prison.
Maybe a cell phone?
u r a pip!
Jars of Nutella would be a wise stock item. No need of refrigeration, and it's delicious.
Wait a minute...propping open all the staircase doors? Is that wise? It could lead to the 'skyscraper monster' (a distant relative of bigfoot) finding you in the middle of the night as you're napping. Lock those doors Pearl - yikes!
Wasn't preparedness something you learned from your father? I'll look for you on the Today Show. If you don't make it now, you can make it when you're 100 (and Willard Scott is 190)!
too funny. i can see the movie now...
Good plan.
Well if you're going to nap, you're going to need a pillow and blankie, I daresay. Other than that, you've thought of everything :)
Tell you what, sister, I actually worked in a high rise in San Fran, which was struck by the "big on" in 1989.
While your list is impressive, all you are really going to need are your wits and some courage. just sayin' ... :)
You need that nap.
Just sayin'...
Love being here!
"... stringy yet flavorful jerky ..." - my my, it has been a harsh on you.
raiding desks can also net you saltines, ketchup and birth control.
Shortly after 9/11, the landlord of our well-known midtown tall building distributed "go bags." These held a depressing collection of discount survival gear: a tinfoil "shock blanket" that could double as a signal flag on sunny post-Apocalyptic days, a small bottle of water, a granola bar, two bandaids... like you could survive but probably not long enough to get downstairs. Naturally I threw this out and substituted a small cashmere wrap, a flask of Hennessey, some dark chocolate, and some tabs which can still be sold without prescription in parts of Europe. Would you believe I was criticised for not having strong "Firm spirit"?
How do you survive an apocalypse? Well, first, update your resume.
Were you a Girl Scout by any chance, Pearl? You've got "Be prepared" down to a fine art. :-)
Well, at the very least you'll have sensible shoes for your rescue.
*side note: I was actually stranded at work once... during a hurricane. No power, whole mall was closed, being the str. mgr I couldn't leave until the head honcho (3000 miles away) said so. By the time he said it was okay to leave, it was safer to stay in the building. THAT and I was 7 months pregnant. :) The storm passed and I went home five hours later.
If I ever did get stranded in a tower block, the one and only consolation that I would have is that I would never again have to change my underwear. Save drawer space and fill it with emergency Sudukos instead!
Naps are good. I like a plan that includes naps. I think you're well prepared.
Anything that includes naps is fine in my book.
I can stand being trapped in an office, but not an elevator. with or without food. Now I am all anxious about getting on an elevator :(
Provisions for being stranded at work? I work with 4-year-olds. All I need is a vial of hemlock to do myself in.
You know if you want to microwave them whole all you have to do is break the latch on the microwave door and lodge it into the catch leave the door opened, drag the body into the lunch room, turn the microwave on for max time... 99:99, hit start and walk out of the room sealing it behind you and repeat every now and then until the body is cooked to preference....
Who's morbid now?
Screaming and napping I can handle. It's the butchering and microwaving of the co-worker I'm going to have to work on. Since the closest high rise is four hours away in Salt Lake City I may not have to worry. Anyway if it happened to me the microwave would probably be out of commission because of the power outage. And the zombies would eat everybody with brains.
Don't forget to tune into the daytime soaps thereby ensuring the zombies will skip your building.
You were a Girl Scout, yes?
I am psychologically prepared for the end of the world, being stranded alone in tall office towers. Hubby has no other DVD's than those dealing with this topic: zombies, aliens, WW111, death and desertion. Three months and counting; visions of screaming and napping, looking for breath mints and scavenging ammo. Yes, I will be prepared when it all hits the fan. Your desk will be the first I will rifle thru looking for food and lipgloss when all else is gone.
Rosemary
And a toothbrush. All that napping could mean that you have morning mouth no matter what time of day you are saved. A pillow, a blankie (jenny_o is right) and a toothbrush. And now you are all set.
I like that you are always prepared come what may.......
It is time to pick up a can of spam. Nothing like having some healthy food in case of emergency.
I think you need to add to your stash; candy bars,juices, sodas, turkey jerky, and other necessary snacks. Maybe you should toss in a could of DVDs of movies you have not had a chance to see to play and watch on a computer. Laptops can last for couple hours on fully charged battery.
Hari Om
Pearl - o - Pearl dear girl; has no one told you this is 2013? We're officially post-apocalypse now!
My god. You are forgetting about chocolate! And coffee! You really are not prepared at all.
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