Who needs comfort in a fire?

After 9/11, firefighters were the coolest people around. Their luster may be fading a bit: No one believes me when I tell them the firefighters told me to stay in the stairwell at work in the event of a fire. Rather, they believe that I was told that; they just don't believe the firefighters' claim.

I don't know fire procedures and safety, which is why I asked the fire chief when he came to our building. He told me that the stairwells are fire secure, and fresh air gets forced into them so I will be able to breathe. Just wait there for us, the chief said. We know how to get people in wheelchairs out safely.

This makes sense to me.

On the actual 9/11, a co-worker carried me down 10-15 flights of stairs on his shoulder. Another lugged down my chair. This was at our old building, and it was a rather panicked evacuation that left me a little uncomfortable, but much better off than the guy who carried me down, whose nickname is Thor.

By my desk, we have a stair chair, with treads not wheels, so it goes down stairs, but the fire chief said that while a stair chair is great to have but just wait for us.

We are only on the third floor, too, so I am cool waiting. The stair chair is not super comfy. My boss waits with me.

Today, the fire alarm went off. It turned out to be a false alarm -- I went in the break room and it smelled like burned cinnamon Pop-tart so that may have set it off.

Afterward a friend asked me what I do in fire drills and I told her that I wait.

No, she said, if there is a real fire, I'll get you out.

It would be more fun to get carted out by a friend than a firefighter anyway.