Bomb scares and lift trouble

Source: flickr.com via Nadia on Pinterest

My heart is racing in my THROAT – not even my chest – my knees are wobbly and I’m starting to feel slightly irritable and tearified. A similar set of symptoms, yes, to the ones experienced after just having fallen in love, but sadly – or maybe not so sadly – not quite the diagnosis. I guess it merely comes down to a very mild case of post traumatic stress disorder. Extremely mild, but still highly affecting.

You see, I decided to step out of the office today for a special Friday lunch of pizza and coffee (shared pizza of course – we aren’t THAT well-off yet) with cuzzy, Nikola. It was fabulous and fantastic and everything I’ve always wanted from a start of the weekend lunch break (except that ideally coffee would be replaced with beer/wine/cocktails)… but do you really think that, for once, things could just have stayed wonderful for the remainder of the working day. Noooooo!

Firstly I got back to our Adderley street offices only to find a section of the road directly adjacent to our place of work cordoned off with police lines, a lonesome police car the only object inside.

Enter present tense…

A quick summary of the situation leads me to the conclusion that something must be up inside the darkened, empty Nando’s on the corner. A bomb scare it soon appears from an oddly chilled-out employee. (Dude, you just got evacuated mid chicken grilling… for crying out loud… show some emotion!)

Okay.

So, the Nando’s may have a bomb inside and I work in the building two doors down. Same block. Different entrance. Okay. Okay. Everyone inside our building’s reception looks calm, so I should be calm too. Right? Right.

Ignoring the incessant and uncomfortable tug of nerves I sign in, breeze through the turnstiles and catch lift number 2… Biiiiiiiiggest mistake of the day, as the lift takes off (is that what lifts do or is there another term?) with me and my fellow 3 passengers only to come to a jolting stop in between ground floor and 2nd.

Bomb. Nandos. Lift. Stuck. This is it. I’ll never see my cat again. Or my mom! Or my Dad! Or anyone for that matter! These three randoms will be the last faces I lay eyes on. Oh! Woe is me. I’ll never get to blog about this. NOOOOOOO!!!!

Back to past:

Some of these racing thoughts must’ve stared showing on my face, as the lady in the lift looked at me with a perplexed expression and said: “Don’t panic!” while the one gentleman laughed: “Someone’s feeling claustrophobic!”

Of course the mention of the C-word did nothing to help the situation, but only aided in pushing my already delicate state of being right into panic overdrive… hyperventilation and all!

The whole ordeal must’ve taken maybe a minute, probably closer to 30 seconds, but it felt more like a few hours. When we finally made it safely back to reception I was two rusted panels short of a wreck.

It took me a good few minutes to gather the courage to brave another lift. But I did and managed to get back up to the 5th floor without any further ordeals.

In retrospect, I guess, maybe the universe was just playing a sick little April Fool’s joke on me. If so, not very funny at all!

So, with that jolt into the weekend I greet you, and wish that nothing of the sort may come across your path!

After a hectically busy week there is nothing I want to do more than don a pretty dress and dance in the rain. Maybe just avoid the mud.

Have a happy happy weekend!

xx

Photo from: Tolly P’s Flickr photostream

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