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2004-10-26 - 1:07 a.m. A lot has changed since that day that I was standing outside of my kindergarten with all of my classmates looking around anxiously for a drill that was on fire. I distinctly remember even sniffing the air for a hint of choking smoke. Nothing. I guess I finally figured it out at some point. When it was finally clarified what a fire drill actually WAS I became a bit nervous about the whole operation. �Maybe this time there really is a fire!� I would think to myself. Every time I heard the telltale dinging of the bell I always made sure to stay within the single file line and to keep my mouth absolutely shut lest I should be lapped up by a fury of flames that would leap out from around the corner. After about the fifth grade I was pretty much anesthetized by the whole production, but at least it got us out of class for a few minutes. Now a fire drill at a hotel at 2 in the morning is a completely different matter altogether. There is no polished little school bell out in the hallway with a clanking little arm on it. Instead there is a series of inconspicuous intercoms, speakers and flashing lights strategically placed throughout each room and every few feet of the hallway. When triggered, this dutiful little ensemble has the ability to stop your heart, make you choke on your own breath, shoot an extreme magnitude of adrenaline through your veins and make you wonder, �Where in the hell am I?� and �Will someone please kill me so I don�t have to listen to this anymore?� By the time I gathered my wits, which were scattered across a 13 mile radius, I would have been swimming in a sea of flames had there been a real fire. Not to mention that I was wide awake for the rest of the week.
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