Do you see what I see? FIRE!

pp: Dec. 29, 2005 on Cellar Dwellers Blog-o-rama

Toys R Us caught fire on Christmas day (there’s a joke in there somewhere that I can’t come up with, about the touch of irony or some kid from the naughty list who was upset with his Christmas gifts.)
I work there, so I know what happened. I’m not allowed to reveal anything. Truth be told, it’s not that exciting.
I’ll reiterate what everyone said to me: At least no one was hurt.
That’s the line of the week. At least no one was hurt. I understand the sentiment, but if you think about it a step further, perhaps it’s not such a great sentiment. Sometimes people don’t think before they speak, and I spent the last three days standing out front of the store talking to these people. These people either live under a rock or near Boardman.
Here’s the typical conversation I had on Monday:
Me: Hi, we’re closed
Them: Closed?
Me: Ya, we had a fire on Christmas.
Them: You’re kidding. Really?
Me: Yes.
Them: Was it bad?
Me: No structural damage, but they’re still determining everything else. If you have returns or exchanges, the stores in Robinson and Cranberry are open.
Them: No one was hurt were they?
Me: No, it happened on Christmas, no one was here.
Them: I guess that’s one good thing.

By Tuesday it went like this:
Me: Hi, we’re closed. We had a fire on Christmas.
Them: You’re kidding. Really?
Me: No, I’m not kidding, I wouldn’t kid about something this serious and I resent the fact you think I would.
Them: I’m sorry. Was it bad?
Me: It’s a fire inside the toy store, it’s not good.
Them: No one was hurt were they?
Me: No, it happened on Christmas, no one was here.
Them: I guess that’s one good thing.
Me: Unless you consider if someone was here, they could have stopped it with a fire extinguisher.

By day three:
Me: You don’t read the paper do you?
Them: What?
Me: We’re closed: we had a fire on Christmas.
Them: You’re kidding.
Me: Well… you’re right! You got me! Man and I thought the 7 bright yellow vans that said Fire and water damage restoration would really sell this practical joke.
Them: [confused look] Was it bad?
Me: No, it was actually good, for a while. You know how it is… Christmas party … roasting marshmallows indoors … got out of control. Robinson and Cranberry are open.
Them: Okay.
Me: They have no idea how to party at those stores.
Them: At least no one was hurt.
Me: No, but the mule did suffer smoke inhalation.

But by far, this was the best angry customer of the week.

[car pulls in, I go towards it, woman gets out, not even glancing at me]
Me: Hi! (I’m very cheerful)
[woman feigns indifference and grabs purse, walks past me toward the boarded up front doors, with Service Master fire restoration vans – the bright yellow ones – parked all along the front and hand-made signs declaring Closed]
Me: Are you coming to shop today?
[ignores me, totally, still]
Me: Because we’re closed.
[She stops dead in her tracks, swings around quickly, stares me down. I could swear her eyes were yellow, perhaps just reflections of the cleaning vans. There was spittle (or foam) dangling on the edges of her mouth and I’m thinking she stops un-dead in her tracks would have been a more apropos phrase. Then in a deep menacing voice she growls]
Her: Why!?
[Now a man has two choices when faced with such situations. Fight or flight. And being a man, I had to make a choice. I chose flight.]
My actual response: [take two steps back, and meekly squeak out]: F-f-fire.
(My response when I retell the story to co-workers: We were warned you were coming. We got a call from Dorothy and Toto.)
She spins around again and heads toward the store anyway. I contemplate tackling her, but remember the yellow eyes.
Me: Why be a hero?
Me: She could be a terrorist!
Me: She could just not believe you.
Me: Dude. Look at the vans.
Me: You’re right, and there’s that risk of rabies.
Me: There must be a better way to deal with this.
[And then it comes to me, in a bright flash of retail wage slave brilliance]
Me: Let management deal with it.
Me: You’re brilliant
Me: I know.

Epilogue
The woman with the yellow eyes was merely throwing her empty McDonalds bag away at the garbage can near the front door. And I thought Supersize Me scared me away from fast food. She turned and left and I made a wide circle back to my post near the front door, and couldn’t help mumbling to myself, ‘At least no one was hurt.’