I was moved to an able-person room on the other side of the hotel, and after watching TV for a while began to doze off. I do not sleep well when away on business, so it was shortly after midnight before I finally dropped off into the land of nod.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

I woke with a start, violently ripped from the dream I was having about some particularly nimble of cheerleaders. I quickly checked my ears for signs of bleeding, as the piercing volume of some form of alarm was making the entire room shake. For some reason I looked for the source of the noise in order to turn it off, which seems stupid in hindsight, but I was very keen to get back the cheerleaders.

I popped my head out into the corridor to hear the alarm out there too.

We were on fire!!

This was exciting. I had never been in a burning building before. They say that your life flashes before you at a times of imminent death, but I can tell you now that this is utter bollocks. All I could think of was which pair of jeans to put on, and whether or not to take my laptop outside with me. ‘Life flashes’ my arse. Clearly this is evidence that I am just the sort of person you need in a crisis. I knew I was wasted in the corporate world.

I checked my watch. It was 1:40am. I made my way to the car park without so much as a sniff of smoke, a glimpse of a damsel in distress, or indeed any sign of a raging inferno. My chance to be a hero would have to wait for at least another night. I knew I should have fetched my laptop.

I met my colleagues in the car park and we discussed the shock we had gone through when the alarm went off. The fire brigade arrived, and after a few minutes checking the building they gave us the OK to return to our rooms, even though the cheerleader dream was almost certainly lost forever.

I got into bed and as I closed my eyes I prayed for something even remotely erotic to pop into my head.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

I awoke with a start. Again! It was 2:30am. I climbed out of bed, and just as I got my jeans back on, it stopped. Either it was the most speedily subdued fire ever, or another false alarm. I got back into bed, and eventually began to drift off. For the third time. Just at the point that I began to fall away…

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

For fuck’s sake!

It was now 2:50am and I was getting up in just over four hours. At this point I was willing to risk the chance of burning to death for a few stolen moments of sleep. Again, the alarm stopped after being on just long enough to ensure the entire building was awake.

Four hours later I awoke to the sound of my now decidedly feeble mobile phone alarm, to read a letter stuffed under my door from the hotel manager apologising for the previous nights false alarm. He was reiterating how resident safety is was paramount. Basically it said that if it happens again tonight, be prepared to go into the car park. Again.

I drank four coffees and made my way to work.

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