There are comfy chairs in the lobby

I call it Headless Chicken Syndrome: A condition that occurs during a crisis when everyone is in charge at the same time. This is actually worse than nobody being in charge, because in the total absence of leadership you are free to look out for yourself.

When everybody is in charge at once, you are expected to follow a series of leaders who are not on the same page and whose instructions frequently contradict one another.

CorpWorld is currently suffering from a raging case of HCS right now – precipitated by a malfunction in the fire suppression systems.

The first indication of this was an announcement over the loudspeakers telling us that there was a possible fire event and that we should “gather our belongings” in preparation to evacuate the building.

This is stupid for many reasons. First off, this gets everybody alarmed – because everyone hears two words “Fire” and “evacuate” and everything else goes out the other side of their head.

With belligerents like me, these kinds of messages are taken literally. I get my stuff together, and I keep working at my desk. I’m ready to bail, but I haven’t been told to bail yet.

The herds of people who are fixated on the word “evacuate” rustle around uncomfortably, suggesting that we should probably get moving. Being me, I say we weren’t told to leave, and there is no alarm going off.

The simple fact that discussion of this issue is taking place erodes the resolve of others who were thinking of staying. “Hmm," they think – "might as well go…”

So, now the message has fractured the response of the staff. We are of two minds, both perfectly defensible.

People start asking about how they should get out, should the alarm happen to go off. People begin smelling something “is that smoke? Is something burning?” This gets communicated through the grapevine at the speed of panic.

Then, the sprinkler system goes off in the unit next to mine. There is no alarm.

This settles it. The sound of spraying water and pissed off staff is the final straw. Everybody bails. Early suggestions are to go down to the cafeteria.

I’m like, “there are comfy chairs in the lobby.” And – oh by the way – going to the cafeteria would mean going through the sprinklers. My immediate group is won over by this, but the bulk of the floor appears to be heading straight towards the part of the building that is rapidly getting soaked.

The desire to get out of the building as quick as possible overrides any idea of the lobby (which is in a separate building, connected by an enclosed causeway). We go out, and stand outside waiting for instructions.

None arrive. Walking around to the cafeteria side of the building, we see a huge number of people similarly milling about.

Movement.

We see a group of people filing back into the building through the cafeteria doors.

At this point, we’re not technically in headless chicken mode – since nobody’s running the show. I’m basing my movements on what I can see, and so are the people around me. The flow into the building gets to a tipping point and we decide to go in, too.

On the way in we can see waterfalls coming from the floor above the cafeteria. The water is coming from our floor. Judging from the amount of water, the unit next to ours got hit pretty good.

People are setting up buckets, blowers have been set up. “There was no fire,” sayeth the grapevine.

With that, I decide to go back to my desk. Unless and until I’m told to go home, I’m getting some work done today, dammit.

Our area is fine, but there is a powerfully bad smell that is either deep-fried electrical, or backed up sewer. I boot up and get back to work. The bustle and excitement starts up and it’s pretty clear that work is going to get sidelined while everybody deconstructs what just happened.

So be it. Earbuds in. I start typing.

Word arrives from nowhere that the power is going to be shut off. Shortly after this happens – my computer switches off – but the lights stay on.

Ok. I can take a hint. I undock the laptop, stuff it in a bag- and get ready to roll.

A lady in grey I’ve never seen before shows up at our aisle “They want everyone down in the cafeteria.”

This makes no sense at all. The cafeteria has wet floors and dripping ceilings. The grapevine’s saying that parts of the ceiling are falling down.

I look again at Grey Lady. She’s not in a uniform, she doesn’t have a radio, it’s pretty obvious she’s just like us – another clueless office worker.

Again I point out – there are comfy chairs in the lobby, and there’s no water either.

This wins converts in my unit. We used to have regular meetings in the lobby, so this is an easy location for people to comprehend and locate.

We pirouette awhile, looking for stragglers – the boss is out, our team leader is out. Nobody has any idea how much latitude they have to decide what to do next. The usual backup people are unavailable. I try to get a head count of the people in my area, but it’s pretty clear there is no real danger, and I just want to get out. The lobby is nice, but it only has a few chairs.

We go. Plenty of other people have the same idea, and we’re in a sea of people swapping theories on what happened and what should happen next.

I boot up. Screw it. I have a full battery, wireless and a comfy chair. I’m good.

Headless chicken syndrome now begins. A woman I don’t know suggests that we go downstairs.

Now, again - If you are in charge or taking charge – you should not equivocate. “I need your attention! Everyone follow me downstairs!”

This would have been acceptable. Blue Lady does not do this. She suggests we go downstairs, and then appears miffed when I ask her if we have to, or if this really is a suggestion.
“Well, the directors are going to give you more information downstairs, so I suggest you get moving.”

The name dropping does the trick, but again – just say “The directors want everyone downstairs,” and to hell with this passive aggressive crap. You wanna run things? Then run things, fer crissake.

Down we go. We leave the sofas and cushy chairs and go into a stuffy, cramped room with wooden tables and chairs. All of which are occupied.

We stand.

I watch Blue Lady realize that she’s lead three roomfuls of people into a single room and she starts gesturing for people to follow her out. We do. The next room is essentially the same, but has room to sit down.

I do, boot up and get back to work.

People start scrounging for network connections and power outlets, but again: battery is at 79% and I have wireless. I have a crappy chair, but I can work.

Awhile later our boss’s boss shows up. BB does not know most of us and sees us only en mass. They check in, and leave.

Man in White appears and informs us that the sprinklers went off in our building and that we should sit tight until there is more information.

Presumably, this man is in charge of something. I hope it isn’t something important.

I get some things done and go to lunch – maybe the dust will have settled by the time I get back. I wander aimlessly through the wasteland around work and settle on something so forgettable that I honestly can’t remember what it was.

I get back and on my way through the lobby, I see most of my unit. They’re in the comfy chairs and I pull up, boot up and get busy.

Word is, in about twenty minutes we’ll be allowed to visit our desks and get our belongings and stuff we need for work. Having already done that, I’m wondering if I need to go back to my desk.

We are then told by Helpful Person that we need to go downstairs again. Downstairs is cramped, uncomfortable, and further away from our desks (that we about to visit) but we comply. After all, Helpful Person said we should.

Downstairs again – we reunite with members of the unit and wait for our “turn” to be escorted back to our desks. I opt to say at the damn table. My battery’s still good and all my documents I can get through wireless.

Forty minutes later, we are asked to go up to a room that has been prepared for us. How nice, but I’m already working and unless there’s a reason why I can’t stay-

There is – Guy in Black would like us to go upstairs. “The lobby has-“ oh, skip it.

The upstairs room has desks all along the outside walls, each with a desktop computer on them. My entire unit has their laptops with them. As we like our laptops, we fish out our network cables, push aside the desktop’s keyboard, and set up.

Work begins to happen. We are in a room with other units and they are loud and annoying. Earbuds in. Work.

This is a partial solution; it blunts the sound, but doesn’t keep it out. I deal.

About an hour later, I hear the following over the din:

“Oh, you guys have laptops? We got guys upstairs looking for PCs.”

I laugh out loud. Next to me, BB hears this, too. “If they need desktops, we should probably move upstairs.” It makes sense, of course, but now we will move again.

That’s it. I’ve had it. I fold up, bag up and leave the room.

And here I sit, battery at 49% and wireless strength excellent – in the lobby.

Incredibly, I’m the only one here.