We Need To Talk About Fire Alarms.

I asked several people, online and off, what I should expect from living in Pooley. Not one of them mentioned the fire alarm.

It's an infernal device which activates with an loud, continuous whine that burrows into your eardrums and sends shivers up your spine. It's gone off several times since I've been here; on each occasion, the entire building has to evacuate (they send someone around with a clipboard taking down names--I don't see the point of this, as someone could just be out at that particular moment). When that happens, we stand outside until a fire truck arrives, a troop of firefighters inspects the flat which instigated the alarm, the all-clear is given, the alarm is deactivated, and we file back inside. A thoroughly annoying but ultimately harmless process. Never more than 20 minutes.

This was not the case at 3:58 on Monday morning.

I was watching the Super Bowl, you see, which was a painful experience in itself, but it resulted in my only just having laid down in my bed and turned off the lights when a loud beeping filled my room and every other room.

Dear God, no, thought I.

I stayed still for a moment, staring at the ceiling and contemplating my life, before laboriously putting on pants, slippers and my coat, and trooping outside with the rest of the building.

The only saving grace was the weather, which thankfully was mild if somewhat chilly. It became soon clear that this was no normal alarm--no misguided stoner, no incompetent chef. Because the whine which signaled a normal alarm was instead that constant beeping, and also the firefighters had left the scene shortly after arriving and we were not permitted back indoors, and there was nobody taking names.

Rumors spread that the mechanism by which to disable the alarm was malfunctioning, rumors which were soon proven accurate.

"You can go inside," they said, "and we'll try to get it off as soon as we can, but no promises."

It was 4:56.

Armed with headphones and playing my music at a volume entirely unconducive to sleep I did indeed crawl back into the bed I had never settled into, and it was at 5:02 that the hellish noise finally ceased and peace was restored.

Well. At least they were quick about it.