June 13, 2008

“It looks like we’re stuck in here until the power comes back.”

“Try pulling.”

“Power’s back.”

A late afternoon storm approached.  We could see through the conference room window that it was not setting up to be just another afternoon thunder boomer.  The clouds were ominous and the sky took on a surreal appearance.  As a visitor at one of my customers’ locations, I was not sure where we would go in the event of a tornado.  The one thing I did know was that I needed a stop in the restroom.  We had been meeting for nearly three hours when the weather disturbance revealed itself.

Shortly after entering the restroom, I made the comment to another gentleman (and the only other occupant) that I hoped auxiliary power lights were located somewhere in the room.  We saw no signs of anything like them.  Almost immediately thereafter, a loud thunderclap was followed by darkness.  There were no auxiliary lights.  Using the screen lights from cell phones and blackberries, we made our way carefully to the exit door.  I noticed a dim, red flashing light by the door handle and was instantly convinced we were locked inside.

Thankfully, the door handle did move.  Unfortunately, however, the door did not budge.  I pushed and pushed to no avail.  My companion stood silently nearby in the dark.  After several vigorous attempts and stopping just short of throwing myself against the door, I lamented, “It looks like we’re stuck in here until the power comes back.”

“Try pulling,” was the response.

“Power’s back,” I said as I pulled the door open.  We exited together.  Of course, the power wasn’t back.  Comic relief was the only way to deflect my embarrassment.  Heading down the hallway together, the gentleman jokingly promised to hold our experience secret.  He was honoring my human intelligence though I had not demonstrated any faculty for reasoning whatsoever. 

Emergencies create friendships.