Pitch black. Sleeping. My cell phone was ringing. That can’t be right — it’s five o’clock in the morning. I decided to ignore it. Must be a dream.
Beep. Beep. The voice-mail began to beep, and that’s something that can’t be ignored. Beep.
Seriously. Who leaves a voice mail anymore? Doesn’t everyone just text?
I dragged myself out of bed and vaguely remember calling the last number. I didn’t know who it was, but figured that if they had left a voice mail, it must be for a good reason. A very chipper young woman answered:
“Moon Security, your name and password please.”
Oh shite. The alarm was going off at the restaurant.
“Police have been dispatched due to multiple motion alarms and door alarms. Are you able to respond?”
I grabbed my keys, threw on a coat and beanie and ran outside. New snow. BAM! I fell on my arse. Nice.
The van was covered in fresh powder, and I couldn’t find the snow scraper so I used my arm.
Covered in wet snow, freezing cold, and with a sore bum, I was there in less than 10-minutes.
…and by then our Food Vendor had figured out how to turn off the ear-piercing screams of the alarms.
He was unloading cheese when I arrived.
“Sorry,” he said. “I couldn’t get the code to work for awhile. Man, that thing is LOUD.”
It is an alarm.
I hope this doesn’t become a pattern.