The Burglar Alarms (me)
When the burglar alarm was installed, I was given detailed instructions in how to use it, including a numerical code to punch in and a password to use if the alarm was triggered in error. I was also given an electronic gadget with four buttons to push so I wouldn’t have to punch in the code and could turn the alarm on and off from either inside or outside. So far, so good. But one of the buttons on the electronic gadget is RED. (This is the place for foreboding organ music.) That’s the one to push in an emergency. Any emergency, it doesn’t have to be a burglary.
One recent afternoon I was here alone, well, except for the dog and the cat. The cat, having tact and a great sense of self-preservation, does not enter into this story. The dog, being a sweet but neurotic Doberman Pinscher, is a member of the cast. I settled into my new recliner to read and fell asleep. Someone knocked at the door. The dog and I both promptly went nuts. He began barking his head off, his customary practice when he sees anyone out the window or hears anyone at the door. I remembered the electronic gadget in my pocket and pressed the red button. Ooops. I opened the door and some fool wanted to tell me how clever he’d been in finding my Rottweiler. I don’t know if the Rottweiler said anything because the Dobie and the alarm were both pretty loud.
I disclaimed ownership of the Rottie and tried to quiet the Dobie and the alarm. Naturally, I couldn’t remember a single instruction. Hellfire and damnation! The alarm began to speak to me in a woman’s voice. Did I need help? I said no and she wanted to know the code word. I gave her the numerical code and got it wrong but it didn’t matter because she wanted the word. The fool with the Rottie was still trying to interest me in the dog and the Dobie was still baying like a hound hot on the scent. I finally remembered the right numbers in the right order but she insisted on hearing the code word. Just in the nick of time I remembered it and the voice was satisfied and turned the alarm off. The fool took the Rottie away at some point and eventually the Dobie stopped baying. I don’t expect to ever be the same again but it was a good cardiac workout.
One recent afternoon I was here alone, well, except for the dog and the cat. The cat, having tact and a great sense of self-preservation, does not enter into this story. The dog, being a sweet but neurotic Doberman Pinscher, is a member of the cast. I settled into my new recliner to read and fell asleep. Someone knocked at the door. The dog and I both promptly went nuts. He began barking his head off, his customary practice when he sees anyone out the window or hears anyone at the door. I remembered the electronic gadget in my pocket and pressed the red button. Ooops. I opened the door and some fool wanted to tell me how clever he’d been in finding my Rottweiler. I don’t know if the Rottweiler said anything because the Dobie and the alarm were both pretty loud.
I disclaimed ownership of the Rottie and tried to quiet the Dobie and the alarm. Naturally, I couldn’t remember a single instruction. Hellfire and damnation! The alarm began to speak to me in a woman’s voice. Did I need help? I said no and she wanted to know the code word. I gave her the numerical code and got it wrong but it didn’t matter because she wanted the word. The fool with the Rottie was still trying to interest me in the dog and the Dobie was still baying like a hound hot on the scent. I finally remembered the right numbers in the right order but she insisted on hearing the code word. Just in the nick of time I remembered it and the voice was satisfied and turned the alarm off. The fool took the Rottie away at some point and eventually the Dobie stopped baying. I don’t expect to ever be the same again but it was a good cardiac workout.
Labels: burglar alarm, doberman, humor, olexer, rottweiler
posted by Barbara J. Olexer @ 7:17 PM
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