Drilldoze

Music in my head: The Who - Quadrophenia
Today's weather: Like Trichy in December.

I was having a very nice dream.
I had dozed off after eating two cheeseburgers. The time was around 6 pm as far as I can remember. And like I said, I was in the middle of a very nice dream, which, of course, I cannot recall now. I had been listening to Dark Side of the Moon in loop mode for the past two hours, and the music was still playing when I went off to sleep.
I can't be sure of this, but somewhere in the middle of my siesta, I thought I heard the intro to Time being played intermittently. And then thought I heard some really heavy beats. I must've assumed, all the while in a sub-conscious state, mind you, that the guys with Afros in the wing must be playing their annoying Bob Marley remixes.
The sounds must have grown louder and at some point I must have switched to conscious mode. I immediately heard a loud alarm (just like the intro of Time) and heavy fists banging desperately on my door. I could also hear running footsteps in the corridor. I jumped to my feet, ran to the door and opened it.
There stood a huge black woman, the prototypical hollywood black matriarch. She proceeds to grab me by the shoulders and give me thorough shake before going on into an angry monologue in rapid French. I can usually pick up random words here and there, but in this case I was totally lost.
The shaking had woken me up and I understood that it was a drill. Without a word, scared as a mouse, I put on my slippers and followed her out.
Once we were outside, I think my cute looks and just-out-of-bed hairstyle melted her heart of stone (no reference to the movie they used to show on CW, if anyone remembers the channel). She spoke, again in rapid French, but this time accompanied by a smile. I just said 'Je parle pas francaise' and 'I'm sorry!' and looked the other way, still slightly intimidated by both her bulk and her deep voice.
I don't know how long I stood out there. I was mostly staring at the floor. There were only a handful of people. Three black guys, a couple of chinese girls, a few Arab ladies and me. Everyone else had left for their respective homes, as the summer vacations here started on the 30th of June.
Then, as suddenly as it started, the ringing stopped.
I looked up for an instant, beamed at her, and almost ran to my room, never once looking back.

Fire Drill + Idle Mind

Music in my head: This Will Destroy- A Three Legged Workhorse
Today's weather: A big puddle.

Noisy alarm goes out of control,
Scares us out of our wits.
We run out into the corridor,
"It's a fire drill, step to, you gits!",

Says the big man in overalls,
Who has a bulbous nose.
I don't know why I'm rhyming now,
I could've just used prose.

But every man's first fire drill
Must be etched in stone.
And as I stand and ponder this,
The big man seemed to've grown.

"Close the door and follow me,"
The ape, he says to me.
And terrified by his barrel chest
I silently agree.

Fluorescent markers light our way
To the nearest exit.
I make my way out the door,
Still dazed by all this shit.

And I see the Frenchies lined up there,
Laughing, flirting, yapping on.
A couple of chinks were eating out
Of a picnic basket they'd brought along.

Well, a fire drill is more than just
A cumbersome activity.
"A fire drill everyday," I thought,
As I joined in the festivity.