On Monday I flew into Las Vegas (yes, that Las Vegas) for the National Association of Home Builder's 2009 International Builder's Showcase. I had been invited to share my insight on marketing to other building professionals by fellow AR member, Steve Hoffacker, so I spent Monday making the trek from Jacksonville to Vegas. There were a few delays getting me here: foul weather up north keeping planes on the ground, and people trying to save the cost of checking their bags at the check-in counter or curbside by attempting to get luggage the size of refrigerators on board as a "carry on", which, by the way, is a BIG no-no on the airlines today.
I ended up getting into Vegas at 12:30 AM, checked into my hotel at 2 AM, and at 2:30 AM, having not eaten since a light breakfast since early morning . . . I went in search of breakfast at the hotel. I think I got to bed about 4 AM, and after about 2 hours sleep I had to start my day.
Last night my crazy schedule caught up with me. It also didn't help that yesterday I walked 'for a little light exercise' the complete length of the 'strip' and back again. I think I walked for about 5 hours, but I shopped along the way so it was all good. Oh, and the day before I ran 4 miles.
I wanted to watch a movie . . . but I am wiped out. It's light out for me. My room is pitch black and cool and I am buried under covers, just the way I like it. When my head hit my pillow . . . I was gone!
At some point during my z's, I am awakened to shrill short blasts from something in my room. Dazed, I leap up thinking it is the alarm clock on my mobile phone or my laptop computer going off and creating a disturbance for the rest of the guests. Frantically I turn on the light by my bed wondering what the source of the racket is, only to realize it is the hotel's fire alarm going off. Sleepily I think it is only in my room . . . so I call the hotel operator to tell her that there is no fire, but who upon answering and before I can get a word out informs me that security is checking into the source for the fire alarm.
Fire alarm??? I am on the 15th floor - the top floor - and I am not too crazy about heights. I throw on shorts and running shoes, grab my leather jacket, stuff my cash, ID, and laptop into my backpack and head out down the hallway looking for the fire exit. All of the doors on my floor have automatically closed . . . and I am wandering the floor alone . . . clearly I am the only one taking this seriously. Either that or everyone else is already out.
I trot down metal stairs on tired muscles thinking to myself: great, your bloody exercising is going to be the death of you after all since you won't be able to RUN from the fire. I may be the first person in history to die as a result of exercise. But I am not taking a chance. Fire?? I'll trot down the stairs and wait outside until they figure it out, thanks all the same. Better safe than sorry, that's my adage!
As I wearily pass each door at each level, I think to myself . . . Where is everybody? and My God, I am NEVER going to get to the bottom! As I approach the door to level 3, I hear a voice over the fire system's loudspeaker . . . an automated voice, a calm deeply masculine voice designed to instill calm in panicking guests running for their lives . . . and I pause to listen . . . "There is no emergency. Repeat. There is no emergency. Security has everything under control."
To be perfectly honest, I am not sure what else the voice said because I turned to look back up the stairs . . I am going to have to trot all the way back up to the 10th floor to grab an elevator since the elevators to my section of the hotel only run from the tenth floor to the 15th . . .
I sigh, go the distance, and I return to my bed . . . keeping my shorts, socks and t-shirt on just in case. I hope they have a wheelchair here in the hotel. I'm going to need it today.
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