I have my screwdriverPosted: January 29, 2013
Kate was so considerate to think of getting us a night at a hotel to celebrate my birthday.
There is technically enough room for three people to sleep in our apartment but it sure was nice to have some time to ourself on Saturday.
Around 4:00 our nice bellhop, Joel, walked us to the Best Western Left Bank where they were kind enough to put us on the top floor with lovely views of the city and Eiffel Tower. We spent the afternoon just enjoying the view and talking before heading out for an 8:00 dinner reservation.
The restaurant was warm and I started to feel pretty sick and had to leave early. We enjoyed getting back early though and talked well past my usual bedtime and finally dozed off around 1:00am.
At 1:30 the fire alarm went off.
Kate and I are both worriers by nature and as such, are VERY quick to respond in an emergency. Within seconds were were dressed and out the door. As we were leaving Kate assured me, “Don’t worry, I have my screwdriver.” Sure enough, she did have a screwdriver. In my heightened state, that seemed totally normal.
We were the first in the lobby. Quite a feat as we were in a separate building and on the top floor. We are really fast.
The front desk managed to get the alarm off and told us “I smelled and didn’t see a fire so you are fine.”
We tried to go back to bed but visions of a burning building terrified us both and we considered leaving. Since we are both so anxiety prone it was almost impossible to think reasonably. We just escalated the other’s thoughts. We finally went back to sleep about an hour later. Only after triple checking that our door was locked, and calling the front desk.
We also had a fairly unpleasant encounter with a very undressed, large and tattooed Eastern European man on our hall.
The alarm went off again at 6:00.
And again at 6:30.
Not the best night of sleep and I think my adrenline was at an all-time high. I wouldn’t have traded that night for anything as I watched sunset over Paris followed by the Eiffel Tower sparkling on the hour.
Thanks, Kate, for a memorable evening. Perhaps you will share in the comments why you had a screwdriver.