“You don’t know do you?”

My new workmate Jocelyn had turned pale.

I’d just told her about my weekend trip.

I shook my head.

“A tsunami alert has been issued for Cairns,” she said.

“What the…”

I’d wasted my morning attending orientation courses, meeting managers, stakeholders, etc, the usual first day shenanigans.

“Gotta make a phone call, ” I said.  “My wife’s still up there.”

Jocelyn stared at me. And started to slowly edge her chair away from me.

“You left your wife?”, she began, “Or did she leave you?“

I shook my head.  

“She’s working there,” I replied. “Seconded.”

I lifted up my work phone.

Disaster. Nothing happened. No purring dial tone, no welcoming message, nothing.

“Where’s the manual?” I growled.

“Stolen,” my workmate replied.

“What? Why would anyone…” I began.

“Govy cutbacks,” she replied.

“You need to press the green triangle,” she said.

I crushed the button and brought the phone to life.

“Number” said the display.

“What the…”

“Enter your employee number. Check your tag,” she continued.

I twisted my ID badge to see better.

“89765“, I typed.

“It’s asking me for a password,” I said flaring up, “What do I type? They haven’t given me one. And have you heard anything more about the tsunami?“

She shook her head. And intoned “11111. You can change it later.”

“I’ll change it later, “ I replied, “But that’s not important now, is it?”

“I think you need a moment,” Jocelyn said. “I’ll come back later,” she continued.

And left me to my desk.

I nodded. “Sorry,” I whispered.

I’d already pressed 0 for an outside line. As per the phone label.

And dialled her direct number.

And I was counting down the number of rings. Whilst listening intently for unexpected dial tones. Or sudden wave sounds.

“Hello?“

“Honey,” I said breathlessly.

“Have you been running?” she asked.

“No just a panic attack,” I replied,” Have you evacuated? Do you need to leave now? Are you okay?“

“I’m good,” her cool reply.

“The tsunami,” I said.

“Oh that. We’re waiting for further instructions. No one knows what to do. Some people drove to higher ground. But we’re staying put.“

“Do you have a Business Continuity Plan? Emergency Procedures? Evacuation Plans?” I gabbled.

She laughed.

“I’m facing a tsunami and now you’re all business! And it’s only your first day. How’s it going?“

“Great,” I said, “Couldn’t be better. Except for this impending natural disaster. My first.“

“Maybe you need a field trip?” she laughed. “And you can fix our procedures while you’re at it maybe?“

“You’re always my first priority,” I replied.

My workmate reappeared and slipped a Post-It Note onto my desk.

“Warning cancelled,” it read.

I grabbed my chest, slowed down my heart, took a few breaths.

“You ok?” she asked.

“There’s no tsunami,” I said.

“Somebody should document this,” I muttered.

“But that’s what they pay you for, darling,” she riposted.

“Welcome to Disasters Are Us,” I said to Jocelyn when I hung up the phone.