The girls and I decided to surprise Laura Anne for her 30th by getting a hotel room downtown and having a girl’s night out, complete with cupcakes of course.
The next morning, Natalie and I decide to go down to the buffet and grab some breakfast. As we step into the hallway we run smack dab into the hotel manager, who is flanked on each side by a fireman. And one of the fireman says “So which room is the fire in?” and the hotel manager answers that it is in room five twenty nine.
Which just so happens to be right across the hall from our room, the one we’ve just left our two best friends behind in.
So I stop mid-stride and hold my hands up because THE HOTEL IS ON FIRE Y’ALL.
And I’m all “I’m sorry, did you just say that the hotel is on fire?”
The fireman looks at me and says “No, no fire” which I’m pretty sure is code for “This whole place is going up in flames.”
And so I’m like “Really? Because you just asked which room the fire was in so now I’m feeling as though I probably should go rescue my friends from this burning building.”
So I wait as they knock on the door of 529 because unlike Mister Unconcerned Fireman, I am slightly worried about the fact that I JUST HEARD A FIREMAN ASK WHERE THE FIRE WAS. That doesn’t make me feel like casually moseying on down to the breakfast buffet. That makes me feel as though I need to locate an emergency exit and assume my STOP, DROP AND ROLL position immediately.
Turns out, the guy in room 529 thought his room was too hot but instead of saying “hot” he said “fire” as though that were not at all an alarming word to say when you call the front desk. Probably you don’t want to be behind that guy in airport security.
