During the course of the year I have written several columns called random funny stuff
which is usually just my futile attempt to live out my dream of being a stand-up comedian. In that vein, I bring you - random funny thing:
So, here's a true story (now, usually when would-be stand-up comedians say true story or this happened to me last week as Dave Hardwick, former host of Singled Out, said and what I really mean is this or something like this
happened to me or someone I know sometime in the past five years. But this actually did happen pretty much as I will describe.). Wednesday night I was having a late night here at The Post. This means I stay and oversee the production of the paper. Dedicated Posties are usually working until the wee hours of the morning. A lot of people know this, but apparently not anyone in Baker Center.
A planned power outage of five university buildings occurred on my late night. Except no one thought to tell us that. So at 1 a.m. I'm happily typing away, putting the finishing touches on the paper when (insert power-going-out noise here).
After the initial shock I let out the longest string of cuss words I've ever uttered. I got up and tried to make my way to my fellow workers, but the path was treacherous. I ran into several walls, continued to curse and then walked into the door. When I finally made it through safely I was greeted by the blue/green glow of cell phone lights, my co-workers' 21st century answer to candles.
So, unsure of anything, we called the Ohio University Police Department and had a frightening conversation that went like this:
Post: Our power's out!
OUPD dispatcher: Where are you?
Post: The Post.
OUPD (confused): Where is that
again?
Post: Baker Center.
OUPD: Oh
well
that was one of five scheduled buildings for a power outage. Didn't you get the e-mail?
See how concerned they are that 10 students are in a university building at 1 a.m. without power? Still completely in the dark they tell us to find the electricians who, God bless them, told us the power would return in a minimum of 45 minutes, or a maximum of five hours. No difference there, 45 minutes, five hours, that's peanuts. Then they asked: Didn't you get the e-mail?
Enter Post editor Erica Ryan with a blindingly bright flashlight. Fellow Post employees can thank her because it made going to the bathroom a lot easier during the two and a half hours of darkness. She suggested we call Rich Carpinelli, director of Baker Center, at 2 a.m. He was helpful and promised us power by 3 a.m. But didn't you get the e-mail? he asked.
No, we didn't get the freaking e-mail! Who knows the power is going to go out, sits around, waits for it to happen and then calls everyone to complain about it? Honestly, if I'd received the e-mail, I have better things to do with my time than bother people at 2 a.m.
As we waited for the power to return, we worried as our computer servers seemed to be communicating angrily, with beeping sounds. As one of our employees put it, Do you hear the beepy thing? The beeper? Do ya hear it?
The beeping seemed to mark our progress, as I commented, Oh no
it's getting slower.
But we all banded together, even those not on the late night. Lights on? asked our senior special projects writer when he called in almost every hour. No, but at least he didn't ask if we got the e-mail.
The power was finally restored at 3:15 a.m. and we finished up just in time at 5 a.m. All in all it was an interesting experience and at the very least offered me a legitimate excuse to skip all my classes yesterday.
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