Shooting the Breeze

The problem with conversations about the weather is how quickly they can head south.

At morning break today, a remark on the ominous rain clouds gathered overhead led to the subject of tornado drills. We have only the two kinds of drills at work, you know: fire, for which you're supposed to go outside, mill about aimlessly in the parking lot, and possibly get in your car and leave - and tornado, for which you're supposed to line up in an interior hallway, or possibly step outdoors for a quick smoke break. But what, asked Robbie, if the building caught on fire during a tornado warning?

It's not all that unlikely when you think about it. Somebody could be making microwave popcorn - somebody generally is - and the klaxon would sound, and they'd beat a hasty retreat to the safe hallway, and the popcorn would burn, and the microwave would catch fire, and the whole place would go up like the Hindenburg.

So we'd go outside, said Thomas reasonably. A tornado warning is just a warning.

But what, persisted Robbie, if the tornado were right outside the door? Bill helpfully added that it might be lying in wait in the parking lot, crouched behind a car, ready to suck up the unwary. And there could be lightning strikes.

Moreover, continued Robbie, warming to his subject, what if a sniper were stationed on the rooftop of the next building over, picking off people as they tried to escape? This isn't implausible either.* We have a special security guard stationed in the hallway right outside our division for a reason, and it's not to keep people from burning popcorn.

The conversation then briefly touched on the ethical implications of using smokers as human shields, but at about that point, Thomas said Robbie sounded just like Justin (who hardly ever blogs, by the way**) and changed the subject.

So, nice weather we've been having lately, isn't it?

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*I'm still waiting for the phrase "going transportational" to catch on.
**Happy?