Dear Mr. Firefighter,
I was disappointed not to see you at today’s fire drill. One, it would give me assurance that, in the event of a real fire, someone would actually show up to tend to me and the other “special needs” people waiting by the stairwell. Two, I admit it – I got a little excited at the prospect of being carried down almost twenty flights of stairs while everyone else has to carry themselves.
But, instead, I sat by the stairwell door, listening to the multiple announcements regarding the possible fire in the building. And I’m left wondering what would would happen in the event of a real fire. Would you really show up? Would you really carry me down all those stairs? If so, how? In case you’re unaware, the reason I’m now a “special needs” person is that my belly is huge. So I don’t think you would be able to sling me over your shoulder. And it seems that carrying me in front of you would be awkward and potentially lead to us both tumbling down the stairs. Would you lead me to the elevator? Throw me on a sled and give a shove? Offer me a parachute?
If you’d shown up, I might have even shared my Melona with you. But, instead, I took the elevator downstairs and grabbed one all for myself, along with the hordes of other tenants streaming back into the building.