When stories take on a life of their own
You know it's a good story when other people start telling it.
Back in '98, when we were in the process of buying the house, it came time to go and apply for a mortgage. On that particular day, I was house-, cat-, and bird-sitting for the fabulous recalcitranttoy. Since her place was essentially between ours and the place of mortgageness, it made sense to drop by on the way there and take care of the furry pit stop. Or so we thought.
When we got there, we hopped out of the car, unlocked the door, and popped round the corner to put in the alarm code, which had worked just fine on all the previous days. For some reason, on this particular morning it wouldn't work. So I put it in again. It didn't work, again. I called Dave over, told him the code, and got him to enter it. It didn't work when he did it either. So I took a deep breath and tried it one final time, knowing that a) I had the code right, and b) for whatever reason, the system was banjaxed and was going to set off the alarm no matter what we did.
And so it did. And oh, dear God, the noise. It wasn't just the siren, though.
This particular alarm, unusually for that time, had the voice alarm component installed. So, in addition to "WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP" we were also getting "INTRUDER ALERT IN ZONE 2!"
And then the birds started up.
Now, these were fantastically vocal birds.
One was echoing the alarm klaxon, going "RAARK RAARK RAARK!"
The second, a very smart pink cockatoo, was echoing its owner's periodic shouts at bird 1, "SHUT UP! BAD BIRD!"
The third, a juvenile yellow-naped Amazon parrot, was really just learning to talk, but had succeeded in learning to say, "I'm a green chicken!" Which it was doing at the top of its lungs.
So, the soundscape, if you will:
"WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP"
"INTRUDER ALERT IN ZONE 2!"
"RAARK RAARK RAARK!"
"SHUT UP! BAD BIRD!"
"I'M A GREEN CHICKEN!"
(repeat)
At this point, the phone rings.
It's the alarm company, saying that there's been an alarm detected (no, really?) and could they please have the secret authentication password?
Unfortunately, we didn't have said password, because hey, there wasn't going to be any issue with the alarm system! It always works!
The phone set in question was a classic wall-mount princess phone, with a long handset cord. During this conversation, I had the cord pulled out fairly long, but not taut, so I could talk to Dave, who was standing by the control panel in case the alarm company needed us to do anything.
Unfortunately, as I started to explain the situation to the alarm company, the phone decided it would be a great time to pull out of the wall.
I looked at Dave. Dave looked at me. We both said very bad words, because we knew that Fairfax County's finest were about to show up. He went outside to stand in the driveway, while I got the *&^*&^((*&^*&% phone plugged back in and remounted on the wall.
I believe Dave's description of his internal dialogue at this point was something along the lines of "I was going to stand out there with my hands clearly visible going 'watch me moving slowly! clearly we are not robbing the house!'"
By the time I'd gotten the phone sorted out, there were in fact a couple of Fairfax County cops outside. I came outside as well and helped Dave with the explanation of what was going on, and as we finished the quick rundown I could hear the phone ringing again, so they came inside to talk to (presumably) the alarm company.
The look on their faces as they got the full impact of the soundscape was priceless - it had been going on the entire time, but you couldn't really get the full effect from outside. :)
It was the alarm company on the phone - after a quick chat with the cops, they confirmed that they had managed to get in touch with recalcitranttoy, and were just confirming that they were about to reset the system and turn the alarm off. A few seconds later, the "WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP" "INTRUDER ALERT IN ZONE 2!" finally stopped, and the birds wound themselves down shortly after.
We thanked the cops and apologized for the confusion. As they left and we closed the door - remember, there were still cats to be fed at this point - a woman's head suddenly popped up from the basement staircase and a voice said "¿¿Que??"
Apparently Lucy, the nanny, who was supposed to be out of the country for at least another week, had come back early. Instead of coming upstairs to see what was going on and/or help when the alarm went off, she had been cowering in her bedroom thinking someone actually was breaking into the house, or something. However, she had somehow left one of the doors or windows open the night before when she enabled the alarm, which was what made it not turn off properly when I input the code.
AUGH.
So, at this point, after all this craziness, we still have 15 minutes to make it from point A to the mortgage broker's office, which is just about enough time. We did call to say we might be slightly delayed due to traffic, but they said it wouldn't be a problem.
By the time we got there, it was even less of a problem - their power was out. :) And obviously, we got the mortgage. So all was well that ended well.
The postscript to this bizarre tale: Since my social circles all collapse to a singularity, I assume everyone I know already pretty much knows everyone else I know. This is not always the case, to occasionally hysterical effect.
I found out that shortly after badmagic met recalcitranttoy he told this story, at which point she looked at him and said "Yes, that was my house." :)
It would have pleased Dave no end to know that this particular tale may well outlive us both.
Back in '98, when we were in the process of buying the house, it came time to go and apply for a mortgage. On that particular day, I was house-, cat-, and bird-sitting for the fabulous recalcitranttoy. Since her place was essentially between ours and the place of mortgageness, it made sense to drop by on the way there and take care of the furry pit stop. Or so we thought.
When we got there, we hopped out of the car, unlocked the door, and popped round the corner to put in the alarm code, which had worked just fine on all the previous days. For some reason, on this particular morning it wouldn't work. So I put it in again. It didn't work, again. I called Dave over, told him the code, and got him to enter it. It didn't work when he did it either. So I took a deep breath and tried it one final time, knowing that a) I had the code right, and b) for whatever reason, the system was banjaxed and was going to set off the alarm no matter what we did.
And so it did. And oh, dear God, the noise. It wasn't just the siren, though.
This particular alarm, unusually for that time, had the voice alarm component installed. So, in addition to "WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP" we were also getting "INTRUDER ALERT IN ZONE 2!"
And then the birds started up.
Now, these were fantastically vocal birds.
One was echoing the alarm klaxon, going "RAARK RAARK RAARK!"
The second, a very smart pink cockatoo, was echoing its owner's periodic shouts at bird 1, "SHUT UP! BAD BIRD!"
The third, a juvenile yellow-naped Amazon parrot, was really just learning to talk, but had succeeded in learning to say, "I'm a green chicken!" Which it was doing at the top of its lungs.
So, the soundscape, if you will:
"WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP"
"INTRUDER ALERT IN ZONE 2!"
"RAARK RAARK RAARK!"
"SHUT UP! BAD BIRD!"
"I'M A GREEN CHICKEN!"
(repeat)
At this point, the phone rings.
It's the alarm company, saying that there's been an alarm detected (no, really?) and could they please have the secret authentication password?
Unfortunately, we didn't have said password, because hey, there wasn't going to be any issue with the alarm system! It always works!
The phone set in question was a classic wall-mount princess phone, with a long handset cord. During this conversation, I had the cord pulled out fairly long, but not taut, so I could talk to Dave, who was standing by the control panel in case the alarm company needed us to do anything.
Unfortunately, as I started to explain the situation to the alarm company, the phone decided it would be a great time to pull out of the wall.
I looked at Dave. Dave looked at me. We both said very bad words, because we knew that Fairfax County's finest were about to show up. He went outside to stand in the driveway, while I got the *&^*&^((*&^*&% phone plugged back in and remounted on the wall.
I believe Dave's description of his internal dialogue at this point was something along the lines of "I was going to stand out there with my hands clearly visible going 'watch me moving slowly! clearly we are not robbing the house!'"
By the time I'd gotten the phone sorted out, there were in fact a couple of Fairfax County cops outside. I came outside as well and helped Dave with the explanation of what was going on, and as we finished the quick rundown I could hear the phone ringing again, so they came inside to talk to (presumably) the alarm company.
The look on their faces as they got the full impact of the soundscape was priceless - it had been going on the entire time, but you couldn't really get the full effect from outside. :)
It was the alarm company on the phone - after a quick chat with the cops, they confirmed that they had managed to get in touch with recalcitranttoy, and were just confirming that they were about to reset the system and turn the alarm off. A few seconds later, the "WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP" "INTRUDER ALERT IN ZONE 2!" finally stopped, and the birds wound themselves down shortly after.
We thanked the cops and apologized for the confusion. As they left and we closed the door - remember, there were still cats to be fed at this point - a woman's head suddenly popped up from the basement staircase and a voice said "¿¿Que??"
Apparently Lucy, the nanny, who was supposed to be out of the country for at least another week, had come back early. Instead of coming upstairs to see what was going on and/or help when the alarm went off, she had been cowering in her bedroom thinking someone actually was breaking into the house, or something. However, she had somehow left one of the doors or windows open the night before when she enabled the alarm, which was what made it not turn off properly when I input the code.
AUGH.
So, at this point, after all this craziness, we still have 15 minutes to make it from point A to the mortgage broker's office, which is just about enough time. We did call to say we might be slightly delayed due to traffic, but they said it wouldn't be a problem.
By the time we got there, it was even less of a problem - their power was out. :) And obviously, we got the mortgage. So all was well that ended well.
The postscript to this bizarre tale: Since my social circles all collapse to a singularity, I assume everyone I know already pretty much knows everyone else I know. This is not always the case, to occasionally hysterical effect.
I found out that shortly after badmagic met recalcitranttoy he told this story, at which point she looked at him and said "Yes, that was my house." :)
It would have pleased Dave no end to know that this particular tale may well outlive us both.