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The Continuing Chronicles of the FNG(irl): My First Night Call
I'm not a morning person. I never have been, I never will be. I like to roam with the creatures of the night.
Fact of the matter is that I do my best thinking,writing, meditating and brainstorming in the very wee hours of the morning. Unfortunately for me (or for my coworkers depending on your perspective) my nocturnal habits don't mesh so well with my work schedule.
In order to arrive at my desk on time ( I use airline schedules when I state that I was "on time"--that gives me about an hour's leeway), I need to be up (meaning vertical), showered, dressed and out the door by 7:25 a.m.
If you've never met me, you may not be aware that I have a lot of hair. I mean a LOT of hair. It's on the longish side, and it's thicker than a McDonald's milkshake. It takes me at minimum 20 minutes with a professional strength blow-dryer to get all the moisture out. I COULD go to work with my hair wet, or damp, but I don't want to frighten old ladies, dogs and small children with my Roseanne Rosannadanna coiffure.
This means that I have to drag my sorry butt out of my comfy bed at 6:00 am, (snooze button) 6:10 a.m. (snooze button) 6:20 a.m. (ok, one foot's on the floor) 6:30 a.m. (SHIT!!! I'm late!! --mad dash for the shower). I don't enjoy this morning ritual, but I can't seem to go from alarm buzzer to bathroom in one easy step.
The POINT of all this is that I don't wake gracefully if woken early (there's an exception to this rule, but it's not for public consumption). In high school my friends would call and if still abed and my parents volunteered to rouse me, the usual response was "NO!!, for the love of humanity, don't wake her!!"
So I went to bed last night fairly early and conked out quickly, which is an anamoly. My pager, the volume of which is set on "stun", went off at approximately 1:00 a.m.
This is how it went down:
"DEEDLE DEEDLE DEEDLE!!!!"
Wha? WTF?? My eyes pop open, heart slamming in my ribcage....holy crap, those are MY tones....make wild grab for light switch behind my bed, knocking over said lamp and breaking it in the process. Right the lamp and turn it on, make valiant effort to leap out of bed in a single bound.
My adrenaline fueled legs become hopelessly entangled in the sheets and comforter, which my brain does not acknowledge (my brain is still on a beach in Hawaii getting a well-oiled rubdown) and I vault into a "half-pike with a full twist" face -plant onto my bedroom floor, trailing the twisted remains of my bedding behind me.
I've now spent a full 60 seconds extricating myself from my Venus Flytrap bed, and realize I've blown any chance of putting on Big Girl clothing, so I jam my slippers on my feet (can't find my shoes) and grab my pager, keys and coat and gallop down the stairs (waking all my neighbors en route no doubt) in my nighttime regalia (colorful jammie pants and wifebeater tee)...
I hop in my car like Burt Reynolds in a Smoky and the Bandit movie (PUT ON MY SEATBELT) and screech off up the road to the department. At this juncture approximately three minutes has elapsed, I haven't blinked yet, and I don't remember exhaling. I pull in ahead of a couple of other members, we all dash to the bay and begin the Turnout Chinese Fire Drill. As we're running to the truck, we get the announcment--false auto alarm, business owner on site and calling off the alarm.
Dejected, I put my gear back, sign in on the sheet, say my good nights and head home.
Swell, it's now 1:30 and I am WIDE AWAKE....I've had a nap and an adrenaline surge, and I'm ready to take on King Kong....but I have to be up in 4.5 hours.
One hour of restless channel flipping and pacing later, I force myself to lie down and count backward from one million (and somewhere in the dark recesses of my twisted brain, I'm hoping that the tones drop again since I'm already awake).
Until next time....
Fact of the matter is that I do my best thinking,writing, meditating and brainstorming in the very wee hours of the morning. Unfortunately for me (or for my coworkers depending on your perspective) my nocturnal habits don't mesh so well with my work schedule.
In order to arrive at my desk on time ( I use airline schedules when I state that I was "on time"--that gives me about an hour's leeway), I need to be up (meaning vertical), showered, dressed and out the door by 7:25 a.m.
If you've never met me, you may not be aware that I have a lot of hair. I mean a LOT of hair. It's on the longish side, and it's thicker than a McDonald's milkshake. It takes me at minimum 20 minutes with a professional strength blow-dryer to get all the moisture out. I COULD go to work with my hair wet, or damp, but I don't want to frighten old ladies, dogs and small children with my Roseanne Rosannadanna coiffure.
This means that I have to drag my sorry butt out of my comfy bed at 6:00 am, (snooze button) 6:10 a.m. (snooze button) 6:20 a.m. (ok, one foot's on the floor) 6:30 a.m. (SHIT!!! I'm late!! --mad dash for the shower). I don't enjoy this morning ritual, but I can't seem to go from alarm buzzer to bathroom in one easy step.
The POINT of all this is that I don't wake gracefully if woken early (there's an exception to this rule, but it's not for public consumption). In high school my friends would call and if still abed and my parents volunteered to rouse me, the usual response was "NO!!, for the love of humanity, don't wake her!!"
So I went to bed last night fairly early and conked out quickly, which is an anamoly. My pager, the volume of which is set on "stun", went off at approximately 1:00 a.m.
This is how it went down:
"DEEDLE DEEDLE DEEDLE!!!!"
Wha? WTF?? My eyes pop open, heart slamming in my ribcage....holy crap, those are MY tones....make wild grab for light switch behind my bed, knocking over said lamp and breaking it in the process. Right the lamp and turn it on, make valiant effort to leap out of bed in a single bound.
My adrenaline fueled legs become hopelessly entangled in the sheets and comforter, which my brain does not acknowledge (my brain is still on a beach in Hawaii getting a well-oiled rubdown) and I vault into a "half-pike with a full twist" face -plant onto my bedroom floor, trailing the twisted remains of my bedding behind me.
I've now spent a full 60 seconds extricating myself from my Venus Flytrap bed, and realize I've blown any chance of putting on Big Girl clothing, so I jam my slippers on my feet (can't find my shoes) and grab my pager, keys and coat and gallop down the stairs (waking all my neighbors en route no doubt) in my nighttime regalia (colorful jammie pants and wifebeater tee)...
I hop in my car like Burt Reynolds in a Smoky and the Bandit movie (PUT ON MY SEATBELT) and screech off up the road to the department. At this juncture approximately three minutes has elapsed, I haven't blinked yet, and I don't remember exhaling. I pull in ahead of a couple of other members, we all dash to the bay and begin the Turnout Chinese Fire Drill. As we're running to the truck, we get the announcment--false auto alarm, business owner on site and calling off the alarm.
Dejected, I put my gear back, sign in on the sheet, say my good nights and head home.
Swell, it's now 1:30 and I am WIDE AWAKE....I've had a nap and an adrenaline surge, and I'm ready to take on King Kong....but I have to be up in 4.5 hours.
One hour of restless channel flipping and pacing later, I force myself to lie down and count backward from one million (and somewhere in the dark recesses of my twisted brain, I'm hoping that the tones drop again since I'm already awake).
Until next time....
Add a Comment
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Comment by Joe Stoltz on March 6, 2008 at 11:55pm
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Well, men have a slight advantage over women as we have at least one less item of um, apparell to don. My wife always says that if she's riding with me she can either put on socks or a bra, but not both, because the bus is LEAVING SOON. I've also been accused of sleeping in the car, or having a transporter.
Keep it up Mel, this is great! I can't wait until the next installment of CCFNG.
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Comment by Mary Ellen Shea on March 6, 2008 at 7:14pm
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I'm firmly convinced that there's an underground slide/chute directly to the department...and only the old-timers know where it is.
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Comment by Bob on March 6, 2008 at 4:36pm
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Oh, if you want tips on being quick check with my past Chief Randy C Rider (FFN member). He never gave me his secret, but this guy was so fast out of the gate I swore he slept in his car (or he kept his portable under his pillow). He would call responding before I could get my socks on.
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oh, I can see it now.....
"Fire Control...this is Voorheesville station responding...repeat the address?" (I've already done some time on the radios/mics) ---only to be met with a quizzical "Say again Voorheesville?" ....and then the drilling I'll get from my fellow members, who love to monitor the radio.
I've already responded to EMS calls and reached the parking lot before I've realized that it's not the FD being toned out.
God I love this job....and I don't care if I make an ass of myself. I really don't.
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Mel, when you get a few more runs under your belt, we'll teach you the next lesson about night calls: stopping to tinkle before going out the door. And maintaining that 2 minute response time.
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Comment by Tiger Schmittendorf on March 5, 2008 at 9:04pm
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Congratulations. You're a BIT - Blownut In Training.
Just wait until you wake up in the middle of the night, imagining your pager went off, race to the station and wait around until someone else shows up.
One piece of advice: don't touch that microphone just in case you really were dreaming it...
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I also have the department-issued plectron....that's the "Deedle, deedle, deedle" I was referring to---
I like to keep my cardio levels high; I keep it on my bedroom floor off to one side, so that when it goes off and I hit the ceiling, when I land I don't step on it.
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Wouldn't it be easier to just move my belongings to the station permanently? There's a kitchen and a loo....
lmao Art....thanks (?) for the commentary, you snarky SOB.
xo,
Your fellow F.O.G.I.E.
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Comment by Art "ChiefReason" Goodrich on March 5, 2008 at 1:17pm
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Mel:
You shouldn't need more than 3 hours of sleep a night. Any more than that is a waste of time. Top it off with 3 Venti Redeyes and you're good to go.
Next; sleep in your clothing, including shoes. You should cut your response by two minutes at least. If it doesn't, then add a coat and hat.
Move to a ground floor apartment. Not because stairs are dangerous, but because tourists are going to get in your way and slow you down.
And finally, get a new 'do. I would recommend neat, high and tight. Act a military guy to describe it.
If the pager doesn't get your attention like you want it to, then you can purchase a scanner, hook it to a flashing red light and audio alarm measured at 220 decibels. I know a guy who sells them. He can wire your TV so that an alarm will break into programming.
And change your food. You are having way too much fun in your dreams. I would suggest pizza and peanut butter within 1 hour before bedtime.
Remember that the bed covers become unnecessary when you sleep in full clothing. No more battles with your blankie.
Good stuff.
TCSS.
Art
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Comment by angie the fire/resqmom on March 5, 2008 at 12:58am
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ROTFLMAO! I completely understand your pain. I too have very long hair. I rarely get to sleep before the calander has moved on to the next day. And to top it off I live a good distance from the station. I usually respond to the scene in said pj's. Let me know if you figure out the teleportation secret. I could use the extra time for coffee. lol
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