Snooze Buttons and Traffic
I don’t quite have a specific purpose for this particular post other than recalling what happened five years ago. I realize that there are a lot of tributes and memorials happening today, and some may be growing tired of it, but I’m going to write out what I’ve got to say anyway just because it’s on my mind and has been each passing year.
I have a friend who lives in New York and worked across the street from the WTC. My friend’s father worked in the WTC.
When my alarm clock went off, five years ago, I heard on the radio news that a plane flew into a building. Still in a daze, I hit the snooze button on my alarm and slept a little longer before heading to work. When my alarm went off again, I woke up recalling a dream I had about a plane flying into a building.
“Pshaw. What a fucked up dream.” Yeah, okay AJ, just a dream. As I continued to get ready for work, the radio news kept repeating a story of two planes flying into the WTC in New York. As soon as it clicked in, WTC-New York-Dylan, I panicked. Knowing that my friend would have been at work during the attack, I quickly picked up my phone and starting dialling his cell phone.
Busy tone.
Okay, try his work phone.
Busy tone.
Damnit. Try his home phone.
Busy tone.
I kept up this routine for an hour until I got to work.
When I got to work, and after many failed attempts to get a hold of my friend Dylan, I called up another friend to find out if she knew of Dylan’s father’s phone number. She did not know of the phone number but she, too, had been trying to get a hold of our friend. No luck, whatsoever, between the two of us.
Two days passed by and still no luck getting through to any of his phone numbers. Finally, I had received an email from him. He mentioned to me that he was okay and so was his dad. He did not have enough time to write a long email, but mentioned that he would call me as soon as he could and to let everyone else know that he was okay.
About a week later, I finally get a phone call from him. He survived because, like me, he decided to hit the snooze button on his alarm clock. My friend Dylan has an outstanding record for always being on time and being prompt with his work; but on that day he decided to be a lazy bastard and for that I am grateful. His building was destroyed on September 11. Dylan’s father survived too. Thankfully, his father was running late for work because of traffic. I don’t remember which floor of the WTC his dad worked on, but had he been at work on time, he would not have survived.
Today, I am grateful for snooze buttons on alarm clocks and shitty traffic.
I have a friend who lives in New York and worked across the street from the WTC. My friend’s father worked in the WTC.
When my alarm clock went off, five years ago, I heard on the radio news that a plane flew into a building. Still in a daze, I hit the snooze button on my alarm and slept a little longer before heading to work. When my alarm went off again, I woke up recalling a dream I had about a plane flying into a building.
“Pshaw. What a fucked up dream.” Yeah, okay AJ, just a dream. As I continued to get ready for work, the radio news kept repeating a story of two planes flying into the WTC in New York. As soon as it clicked in, WTC-New York-Dylan, I panicked. Knowing that my friend would have been at work during the attack, I quickly picked up my phone and starting dialling his cell phone.
Busy tone.
Okay, try his work phone.
Busy tone.
Damnit. Try his home phone.
Busy tone.
I kept up this routine for an hour until I got to work.
When I got to work, and after many failed attempts to get a hold of my friend Dylan, I called up another friend to find out if she knew of Dylan’s father’s phone number. She did not know of the phone number but she, too, had been trying to get a hold of our friend. No luck, whatsoever, between the two of us.
Two days passed by and still no luck getting through to any of his phone numbers. Finally, I had received an email from him. He mentioned to me that he was okay and so was his dad. He did not have enough time to write a long email, but mentioned that he would call me as soon as he could and to let everyone else know that he was okay.
About a week later, I finally get a phone call from him. He survived because, like me, he decided to hit the snooze button on his alarm clock. My friend Dylan has an outstanding record for always being on time and being prompt with his work; but on that day he decided to be a lazy bastard and for that I am grateful. His building was destroyed on September 11. Dylan’s father survived too. Thankfully, his father was running late for work because of traffic. I don’t remember which floor of the WTC his dad worked on, but had he been at work on time, he would not have survived.
Today, I am grateful for snooze buttons on alarm clocks and shitty traffic.
Labels: Story Time
posted by AJ at
3:29 p.m.
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