Thursday, October 15, 2009

Shakin' All Over

The 20th anniversary of the Loma Prieta earthquake is coming up on Saturday and the city had a drill for earthquake preparedness (what a clumsy noun) today. Apparently nobody wants to think about bad news on a Saturday. Sirens went off a moment ago and we all ducked under our desks, even me, like a good little boy. I should have been thinking disaster thoughts; instead, I was realizing what a nice place for a nap that particular corner would be. I’ll have to bear that in mind.

I’m just not good about earthquakes, I was raised in a swamp, after all. I was getting my hair cut when the Loma Prieta earthquake hit. Coincidentally R Man was also getting his do done a block away. We have agreed to never have our hairs cut simultaneously since. It’s the least we can do for seismic safety. The earthquake only lasted 15 seconds and by the time I figured out was going on, it was over. So much for duck, cover and piss your pants. I was still staring at the Vietnamese lady who had been cutting my hair as she huddled under the counter, squawking like a chicken, when everything finished shaking. She offered to finish my hair when she emerged weeping, but I passed. Something about the way she was trembling put me off. I’m sensitive that way. I walked around for a couple of weeks with half-cut hair. Nobody noticed.

We figure we’ll have to walk home from work after the next one, even though my office has massive stockpiles of supplies all ready for us to hunker down here. The thought of surviving a disaster and then living with my coworkers for any length of time, even if my cubicle does seem to have a nice nap corner, is a grim one. I plan on taking my chances hiking through the Mission homeward bound.


  1. Ironically that's exactly what I've been doing since you disappeared, cowering under my desk waiting for it to be over.

    I'm *very* glad the alarm is over and I am out from under there. You can't imagine the weave and stray acrylic fingernails I've found.

  2. If I wasn't convinced they were your nails and hair, I would be terribly worried.

  3. Living with one's coworkers is my definition of disaster!

  4. Even having survived the Northridge Quake in '94 didn't convince Miss J toward preparedness. The thought of sweating out the next disaster w/ her co-workers is a far better inducement. BTW, Miss J has studied and performed the Disaster genre with her improv group. Let everyone be warned- the folks who think they know better than the REAL hero and go off on their own, never make it. Ditto bitches who are having extramarital affairs. So end that shit before the Big one hits. Just sayin'...


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