Bio: Brian is a fascinating guy. He is a finance guru, fastidiously tidy, and appreciates fine architecture, quality furnishings, and exotic food. Yet, despite his love of order and cleanliness, he opens his home to having our church group over several times a year. He doesn’t begrudge us tramping dirt inside and leaving crumbs in his house, and willingly stays up super late to vacuum every square inch of carpet after we leave.
When I first met Brian, I thought he was quiet and a bit stuck up. Then I talked with him about life and spirituality, and found a really deep, wise friend. Brian comes at life through a different lens than I (and probably using a different side of the brain), but I appreciate how he takes the time to think things out, to really ponder on an idea or philosophy or dilemma. His actions carry the weight of forethought, and he is neither hasty nor foolish. He has given me much good advice and counsel. (Recent example. Me: I think I’ll get a faux hawk at my next haircut. Brian: [pause] I think those were popular last year.)
Plus, he has an automated tie rack that cycles through his impressive collection of ties at the push of a button. Every time we go over there we give tours of his closet. It is even on youtube. That tie rack is famous.
Challenge: Slide down at least 3 floors of the fire escape slide inside the City Place Tower (UMB Bank building) downtown. (Bring an old sheet or something to slide on – it’s likely very dusty.)
Reaction: WHAT????? Slide down … what??? How…why…wow. This is not what I expected from Uptown. I definitely re-read the challenge to make sure I wasn’t misreading it. Nope. This challenge came WAY out of left field. Can you use a fire escape without there being a fire? Is that even legal? Oh boy, it occurs to me I never told my challengers they had to stay legal. What if I set off a fire alarm in using the slide? That would be big trouble.
Of course, leave it to Brian to give me a ridiculous challenge in the most efficient way possible – the whole thing totals 33 words. None wasted. Of all my challenges, this could be the riskiest (at least legally.) I’m going to have to do a lot of research and reconn to make sure I can pull this off. Well challenged, Brian!
Recap: I started the day with a definite buzz from not knowing how the challenge would end up – success, failure, jail? There were lots of ways this thing could go. When I’m faced with a lot of uncertainty, I like to gather facts and gain as much knowledge as I can, so that is how I started. I did some google searching and utilized Wikipedia. A few of the online references mentioned that the City Place Tower did have a working fire escape, but as to where it was or what would happen if someone slid down it – nada. I learned that it is the original building’s fire escape and was built, along with the building, in 1931. It is a spiral slide spanning 33 floors. That’s some serious dizzy.
About mid-morning I texted three friends that work downtown to see if they had heard of doing this. Maybe it’s like a downtown worker’s initiation test. I mean, if Brian gave it to me as a challenge, it must be possible. Some people must have done it, and talked about it. Right?
The texts I got back did not encourage me. No one had heard of doing this. Not even a bit. Feeling desperation creeping on, I texted Brian (who was out of town) to see if he’d throw me a bone on some details. I also made plans to drive over to City Place Tower during lunch.
About 11:00 am, Brian responded back with the name of a local forum where folks post thoughts on life and work in OKC. I got on there and searched for city place tower. The forum coughed up a random collection of posts that I read through without finding any mention of fire escapes. I tried various combinations of search terms, with “fire escape” “slide” “City Place Tower” all sprinkled in, but again, nothing came up. I texted Brian back, feeling a bit betrayed that he sent me on a wild goose chase.
Right before lunch, he texted that there WAS a thread on the forum discussing sliding down the fire escape, and if I would just be patient, I could find it. So I took some time to read through pretty much every post I could find that looked like it MIGHT relate to my topic. And what do you know, several comment pages in to a discussion thread that started out talking about something completely different, I struck gold. The commentators on the site started sharing stories of sliding down the fire escape. No one gave specifics of where it was (one even went so far as to word her post as if she might or might not have done it. For legal protection.) From what I read, here are the facts. 1) several people have slid down, most while drunk 2) it is very dusty at the bottom, and 3) you pop out next to a security guard, so you better be ready to run. Great.
I wanted to survey the situation inside the skyscraper, so I drove over there on my lunch break. I was simply going inside to look around, but my nerves were already on edge. I kept thinking, “Don’t be so noticeable” as I walked around the sunny streets. Looking back on it, I’m sure whatever security measures are in place downtown, they aren’t watching EVERYONE, but I sure felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb. Like I had a neon sign on my forehead that read “Warning! Criminal activity being planned!”
I walked into the lobby, which has a Cool Greens restaurant under construction on the left and UMB bank on the right. No security guards noticeable at first glance. I had decided ahead of time I needed to look like I knew where I was going, versus clearly wandering and staring. So I strode forward confidently and scanned for the elevators. I found them, and followed a herd of ladies returning from lunch into one. I stared at the rows of numbers and panicked at which one to push.
“Honey, I got somewhere to be,” one of the women prodded, though she smiled as if it were a joke. I jammed my finger into the mix of numbers and smiled tersely back at her. I looked down. Floor nine was my destination.
We dumped one woman on a lower floor, and then floor nine arrived. Keeping to my “cover” of being a legitimate visitor, I strode confidently off the elevator. I was in a long hallway with fancy paintings and wood paneling. A man was walking past me, and I looked for a reception desk to see if I would be watched. The man looked at me and stopped walking. “Can I help you?” he asked, without sounding like he really wanted to help me at all. I scrambled mentally, muttering something about enjoying modern architecture and seeking out a nice view of Oklahoma City’s downtown. “There’s no good view from here,” he said firmly. I took the hint and said, “Oh, sorry to bother you,” trying to match my tone to his so he’d know I wasn’t really sorry in the least. Defeated, I turned around and hit the “down” elevator button.
I traveled down to the sixth floor and got off again. This floor was more what I was looking for – a narrow hallway with offices leading off it. I think the ninth floor is one big office, so they can spot intruders instantly. Most of the other floors are a collection of offices that open off the hallway, so they don’t know who you are going to visit (and don’t ask questions). The offices on 6 were closed and no one was around, so I walked up and down the hall slowly, searching for any sign of a fire escape. I wasn’t sure if it would be in the center area of each floor, or if the slide was on one side of the building. Was it bricked up, covered over? Would I have to sweet-talk my way past a secretary to get to it? Six gave me no answers. I got back on the elevator.
I exited again on the second floor, not yet ready to give up, and then I discovered it. A map. A fire evacuation map! There, with a clear diagram, was the location of the fire escape stairs. And marked by a little triangle, it showed exactly where the slide was, close to the elevators in the center of the building. I turned around eagerly and located what I thought was the escape. On one wall was a door frame, but instead of doors inside, there were simply two pieces of wood painted to match the wall. They filled the door frame and met in the middle of it, as a door would, but without door handles. I surveyed the frame. I didn’t see any wires, and there was no marking on it. Nothing that said “Do not enter or alarm will sound.” No threats of legal action. Just a door frame with two pieces of wood. I stared at the entrance until I was satisfied I had surveyed it thoroughly. Content I would not set off a fire alarm, I returned to the elevator and exited on the ground floor.
My excitement at finding the entrance was hit with a reality check as I walked through the lobby. If they had security cameras (likely) then my face and my clothes were now documented as being in the City Place Tower. If I got away with sliding down the slide, but they went back through their security footage, they could find what I looked like. I could see the evening newscast perfectly: Linda Cavanaugh declaring the police were looking for a criminal suspect, and flashing my mug on the screen for my Mom and Grandma to recognize in horror.
I got in my car and drove back to the office, running through scenarios in my head. I texted my friend Jason (Day 1) because I knew he wasn’t working. “Dude, can you bring me a ballcap and sunglasses?” I asked. He sent back that he could. Good. Perhaps the powers that be would have some trouble linking me with the lunchtime footage if I looked different.
The end of the work day approached, and my nervousness and anticipation grew. Even though hardened career criminals like me know better, I told several folks at the office what I was planning. (Another symptom of nervousness. I get very loose lipped.) I got some raised eyebrows but also encouragements. After talking it over with co-workers, I decided I didn’t want to ride the slide all the way to the bottom floor. Trying to run after 33 floors is probably like running after turning around those baseball bats 10 times. You end up flopped over on your side from lack of balance. And while security guards don’t have legal authority to arrest you, they can call police officers who do. So it would be a partial ride for me. Then Jason arrived and dropped off the sunglasses and the hat.
At last the work day was done, and I drove over to downtown. I parked several blocks and a couple turns away. My escape strategy was to mix into the crowd and gradually get back to my car, so “they” wouldn’t get my license plate. I got my emergency flashlight and tow rope out of the back of my car and put them in a backpack, along with a towel (to slide on), a granola bar, and a back-up cell phone. I put the hat from Jason on, slung on the sunglasses, and walked towards the tower.
I entered the lobby but left the sunglasses on, staring at the floor and resisting the urge to look around the room for security cameras. I did stare at the wall next to the elevator where the fire escape should be, but it looked like a solid sheet of marble, so that is probably not where it lets out.
Following protocol, I hit the up button confidently and got on my ride. I pushed the button for the top floor – 33 – but it would not light up. I tried several more floors, but the highest you can go is 24. The top floors must be by access card only.
As the elevator rose, my pulse was pounding in my ears. I kept licking my lips and clearing my throat. The thought “I can’t believe I’m doing this” bounced around in my head. And then the little elevator chime sounded, and I was there.
I walked out of the elevator. Empty hall, with several offices leading off of it. They all looked deserted. I thanked heaven it was a Friday and everyone was probably gone. I stared at the two slabs of wood marking my destination. And then I ran into the bathroom to pee and try to calm down a little.
I washed my face and took several deep breaths, staring at myself in the bathroom mirror. “I only have to go down 3 flights,” I said aloud. “I’m not doing it if it feels rickety or unsafe. Besides, it’s a working fire escape. They have to test it and keep it safe.” My heart was still racing, but that was my best pep talk, so I grabbed my bag and walked out the door.
I took a few steps until I stood beside the fire escape entrance. No one was around. I put my hand on one of the wood pieces and pushed. Nothing happened. I pushed harder, and it creaked and then gave before me. Behind it was a small room, about the size of a closet, with a dull light shining on the wall, a low ceiling, and a large, gaping, black hole in the wall directly across from me.
I pushed the other side of the entrance open and stepped into the closet, letting the doors close behind me. They had handles on the inside, but were made to be pushed open from the outside. The light made me feel better about the safety of the slide – it was on when I entered, so the building crew must change the lights regularly and keep them lit. Which means they probably keep the slide working too.
I put my bag down and got out the towel and the flashlight. My light was pretty small, but I could see the slide curved fairly steeply down from the wall opening. It was metal, and the air inside was cool but didn’t have a particularly noticeable smell. So no one died in there recently, another plus. Part of me wanted to hesitate longer, and check it out more, but I knew the more I waited the more nervous I would get. So I got out the towel, draped it carefully in the slide, put my bag on my chest, and gingerly eased my way into the hole.
If you’ve been to the Bermuda triangle at White Water waterpark in OKC, you probably know how you can put your feet out and slow yourself down as you slide down the attraction. Same principle here. I had my hands and feet splayed out against the sides to keep me from moving as I prepared to begin my slide into the unknown. Once I had my towel properly spread out beneath me, I let myself slide a tiny bit down. I probably went all of three inches. I stopped. All my breathing noises and cloth rubbing against the slide echoed loudly around me. I took a deep breath and let myself slide further down in the tube, inching into the darkness.
The slide continued its steep curve, and as near as I could tell, it circles twice every floor. So after making one and a half circles down, I could see light ahead of me in the tube. I slid on, slowly, and found myself next to the entrance for floor 23. It looked exactly like floor 24 did – dull light, bare closet, big round hole to the slide. They built the slide so every floor has an entrance, which was good since I could keep track of how many floors I had been down by counting the lights I passed.
I was sweating slightly, but my first slide had gone fine. There was no shaking movement from the slide, no hidden nails or razor blades in the tube waiting to cut me. I picked up my feet and let myself slide a tiny bit faster into the darkness again.
I counted and am certain there are two circles between floors. As I neared the entrance for floor 22, my towel started to get away from me and my shirt pulled up from the slight corrugation in the tube, which meant my back caught on the metal. It was just a slight pull, nothing painful, but it again brought to mind the Bermuda Triangle ride. I can’t tell you how many times I lost my tube on that ride, and the seams of the plastic tunnel chafe your skin as you slide over.
I stopped, pushing out with my arms and legs to hold myself still, and adjusted the towel. I decided that it was time to man up, so this time I let go and really let myself slide. One floor passed, then two, then I passed an opening without a light, then three and four and five more. My head was getting dizzy, but my heart was elated – I was doing it! I was riding the forbidden fire escape. I passed one more floor and decided I had more than met the demands of the challenge, so I put out my hands and feet and stopped myself beside the next floor’s entrance. I pulled myself and my bag out of the hole a little shaky but very excited.
Of course, I still had to get out of the building, but I had a sense of victory now that even getting caught couldn’t dampen. I packed the towel and flashlight back up in my bag, then eased the door open slightly, Mission Impossible style.
The floor in front of me was clearly under construction. A cart with work supplies stood on one side of the room, while plastic sheeting with a layer of dust on top covered the floor. “Uh-oh,” I thought. If someone’s on the elevator when it opens, they will see me on a floor I’m not supposed to be on. Better hope the elevator’s empty for the ride down.
I pushed the elevator button, then ran back and hid in the fire escape closet. When the elevator doors opened, I watched the floor to see if the light shining out of the elevator had any shadows of people in it. It did not. I ran to the elevator, got inside, and rode down to the ground floor. I just had one more thing to do. I put my shades back on. When the elevator stopped, I sauntered off and walked out of the lobby doors, without anyone saying so much as a peep. Victory is sweet.
I recorded the following two video clips of this day’s challenge – I hope they work for you.
Did I mention i was sweaty?
No comments:
Post a Comment