Another fire! Take your drink!

I’m back! I didn’t bring you anything, except an empty Diet Coke bottle for my mom, it says Mum. (That’s Mom in European.)

Until a month ago I had experienced zero real-life fires. The ones on TV do not count. Now I seem to be on a roll.

Captain and I were staying a couple nights at a fancy resort in Northern Ireland. My treat for his birthday. We’re snuggled up and fast asleep when at 1:00am an ear piercing alarm starts blasting.

I jump out of bed and stand naked in the middle of the room. Captain sits up and asks,

“What’s that?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s the fire alarm.”

We both reflect on this for a moment. I peek my head out the door. Everyone is leaving their rooms. This seems to be for real. We get dressed and grab our valuables. I put my security blanket in my purse. We leave behind a half-drunk bottle of wine and head for the stairwell.

There’s an old woman in a wheelchair at the top of the stairs. A hotel employee comes to help her. This seems to be getting more real. We’re directed to an area of the parking lot. There are people in all stages of dress: suits, jammies, bathrobes and one woman in a wedding dress. Almost every other person has a drink in their hand.

If I have learned nothing else about fires, the one universal truth is: Take Your Drink.

They handed out fire blankets.
It was a little bit like wrapping yourself in a giant roll of aluminum foil.

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