*Cue creepy music. Because, while the incident wasn’t that scary or dreadful, except for the PAIN, the title The Incident just cries out for creepy music.

Anyway, those of you who have been reading my blog for awhile might remember that I work in a pretty old building in South Saint Paul. You might even remember that this building has a tendency to have things go wrong with it. Well, I have learned why this is.

Call me paranoid but I think the building is trying to kill me. Slowly (but not Beth, the world’s slowest assassin, slowly. At least with Beth she’s trying to make me laugh to death, not blow up or freeze to death or cause PAIN).

Here’s some of the things that the building has done in the past to send me to that great big Malt Shop in the sky (okay, since I chopped my bangs, “Beauty School Dropout” has been going through my head).

Posting paused for a moment while I deal with the world’s most insecure cat who has just walked through the apartment meowing every two seconds because I am not Keem. Keem is not here, she has left him and I have no idea how he is going to deal when we go to Denver in May (fortunately there is a concierge who will take care of him during the week and Kari has agreed to stay here on the weekends). I’ll be back.

There was the gas leak, the week that the air conditioning stopped working, the time the heat stopped working, the other time the heat stopped working and screw it, I’m tired of linking to them. I got distracted by other posts and have decided that Beth and I are quite amusing. And that a lot of weird things happen to us, especially at karaoke.

Anyway, so Thursday, the manager of the bank comes over and says to Co-worker John that there is a really bad smell and they think it might be a gas leak so they’re evacuating. I go over to Co-worker John.

DM: Did he say he thought there was a gas leak?
Co-worker John: Yes.
DM: Of course.
Co-worker John: I’m emailing Vicki (fake name, her real name isn’t very common but she’s the secretary/admin of the boss of the boss of my boss (still no clue on what the possessive of boss is)).
DM: Well, all the managers are in a meeting* so I’ll let Andrea know. She is the default manager.

*Yeah. The meeting they were in? It was a meeting to discuss what will happen if something goes wrong with the building. Or what we’d do if there was a disaster and only 50 % of the people could get to work. Kind of ironic, don’t you think?

I see Andrea walking toward me.

DM: Hi, default manager!
Andrea: Oh dear.
DM: Yeah, there’s possibly a gas leak. What should we do? Co-worker John’s emailed Vicki.

Just as I say this, all the manager’s come pouring in and ushering us out of the building.

As I am walking outside, I see one of my former employee’s from the phone center is on her break.

DM: Hey.
FE (former employee): What’s going on?
DM: Yeah, you may want to step away from the building with your lit cigarette.

I get about halfway to our designated meeting place and stop.

DM: Okay. That’s it. I’ll just stand here.
The Other Cheryl (not my boss): No, we have to go down there.
DM (limping to designated meeting place): Yeah, well then I want my Hoveround.

We cluster in the parking lot. After awhile we see the other groups of escapees from danger heading towards the entrance to the parking lot. We decide to walk there (in my case, limp, cursing my stupid body for deciding to fall apart on me).

After standing around some more, while my right heel and left knee start indicating to me that they are not pleased with the standing around, it’s time to go off to the VFW. The VFW is kitty corner from our building. So we walk across the street. I am limping more severely by now.

Finally, we are inside the VFW. I head for a table and sit, thankfully, into a chair. The pain from my left knee has started to travel up to my lower back and sitting helps control the back spasms.

I swear to you that I was sitting down for two minutes when someone shouted the all clear. Two minutes. And then it was back across the street and up the drive through lane. I had a brief thought of walking across the parking lot to the entrance on the first floor (our building is built into a hill so the drive through lane is somewhat sloped. Not so steep but it felt like a mountain on Thursday) so I can take the elevator. I decide not to do so. This was a mistake.

I am pretty much just walking along, just one foot in front of another, when it happens. I am not paying that much attention to the ground. There’s no ice. No reason to walk the pace of an arthritic snail because I’m afraid I’ll fall (my biggest fear, other than the spiral staircases, etc. and vampires, is slipping on the ice. Ask Beth. I have been known to hold onto her for support). Because I am staring at the door, just counting the moments until I can be back at my desk and in my comfy desk chair and put my legs up on the footstool I brought in, I do not see the pothole. It’s not a big pothole, mind you. It probably wouldn’t do much damage to a car. But it is enough to make me trip.

And it is in the tripping that I wrench my left knee. It is in the tripping that I come down hard on my right foot. It is in the tripping that I almost fall, flat on my face (fortunately it didn’t come to that but it was close). Somehow I manage to make it to my desk and promptly pass out from the PAIN. Okay, I didn’t but I wanted to pass out. It would have made a nice change. Unfortunately we were busy and I could not go home without it becoming an attendance issue (sometimes you can schedule a half day if it isn’t busy). The only thing keeping me from getting a 5 on my performance review was my attendance so I didn’t want to screw that up if I didn’t need to…plus, I may have to go to physical therapy if the problem with the knee is arthritis and I need to have the vacation time for that.

Anyway, that’s The Incident Beth was referring to on the last post. Nothing exciting, exactly, but it did get a quip from Bryan when she told him about (I didn’t go to karaoke because of The Incident (except Beth referred to it as the misadventure and I think I called it the mishap…eh, my blog. I like The Incident better) – “It’s fitting. When we hit a pothole, it just damages our car. If you don’t drive, there has to be damage somewhere.”

Oh, and Patti made a comment about the Lark carts as being not so fast. I’m not a fan of Seinfeld but I did watch it on occasion and I immediately flashed to one of my favorite episodes. Brief synopsis. Beth, avert your eyes (Beth hates Seinfeld in a way that I reserve for tomatoes).

George goes to a job interview. For some reason, he is limping and his new boss thinks he is handicapped. George gets the job and is given perk after perk. Here’s your own bathroom. Here’s your special chair (I think). The last thing that happens is that the boss buys him one of those motorized carts. I believe Jerry said something to him about faking the handicap because he is the laziest man on earth. No, wait, here it is “Well it must be comforting to know you’ll be going straight to hell at no more than three miles an hour.”

Anyway, the part I love is George is tooling around in his new cart and gets into a fight somehow with this biker gang. Except the biker gang are all in their 70’s or so and their “bikes” are also motorized carts. He ran into one of the bikes and was rude in typical George fashion. It ends up with this slow-speed chase down the sidewalk. George is trying to crank up the speed to no avail. Finally, in a fit of desperation because he is going to be pounded by the senior citizens, he picks up the cart and starts running down the sidewalk, carrying it over his head. It is then he runs into his boss.

Hilarious. Gordon Jump played the boss and I have been fond of him since WKRP in Cincinati. Plus it was a Puddy episode and everyone knows how I feel about Patrick Warburton and his stocky goodness. Mmm. Puddy.