Called in to the hostel last night halfway through watching Queen Victoria's Men, fire alarm going off. Again. This time an unnamed resident has pressed the red box – which I still think of as a break glass box, even though now there is no glass (and anyway it wasn't glass but perspex). Before I even set foot in the building one of the residents is wanting to shout at me. Tell him the fire alarm is a priority and go up to the top floor. Try to remember how to reset the box. I was shown but can't remember, so I have to work it out. Fiddle about unprofitably for what seems like ages, send one of the two senior who are expectantly watching my fumbles, to look for more info in one of the four big fat manuals on the building manager's desk. No joy, so I ring the emergency number. We can't have the main doors wide open all night, which they will be if we can't reset the alarm, which won't reset while the red box thinks there's a fire. They promise to ring back within 35 minutes. Maybe they aim for half an hour but give themselves the extra five minutes so we'll be pleased that they've been quicker? Then straight after I work out how to reset the box, sod's law.
On the way back downstairs, stop a panel beeping because someone's gone out of the fire exit and set off another different alarm system. Fire alarm still shows a trigger, so despatch a member of staff to check the bedrooms, looks like someone's been smoking in their room, which they shouldn't do. Turns out it was a candle under the detector. Confiscate the candle.
Then back into reception, reset the fire alarm, satisfying to see the main doors close. Don't get me started on the doors...
Then turn to the Ranting Resident, and attempt, foolishly, to reason with him and explain. First line of defence here is to listen until people run out of steam, but RR doesn't stop at one Rant, he's got several that segue into one another seamlessly. First, he is irate that he doesn't have to sign in any more,and wrongly, thinks that the staff now won't know whether he is on the premises or not, and that he'll fry in his bed if there's a fire. Try to explain that the Government Man who came to visit wants residents to feel secure, and thinks that signing in every day makes people think they only have the bed for one night. In practice it makes no difference, only now staff write IN, or NIGHT OUT, next to the person's name. We struggle to keep up with the constant in and out anyway, so if there was a fire, all we'd do is look on the board to see which keys are hanging up, indicating that the resident is out. Also explain to RR that all the doors in the building – which is brand new – are 30-minute fire doors, and that provided he can't see the fire, he'll be safe for half an hour. And the fire station is only 10 minutes away. RR then changes tack, starts shouting, It's been more than half an hour and the fire engine isn't here. I point out that we didn't actually call them, we followed our procedure and checked first to see if there is a fire. RR immediately inflamed by this, and accuses us of playing fast and loose with his safety, and insists he's going straight to our head office in the morning. On Sunday....hmmm.... Vainly try to explain that we now have the same system as all the other hostels, but he still isn't pacified, so I just refuse to go round the loop again. Suspect his alcohol intake has affected his ability to listen and understand.
Back into the office, check the night staff are happy. Report for fire log. Off home again, but RR is now trying to stoke up another resident. Luckily, she's a bit more with it and can understand what I'm saying, and ignores him.
Not often being on call means physically going in, but the odd time that it does can be entertaining.
No comments:
Post a Comment