Sally in a MIX Fix

I may not be Jenny from the Block, (and don’t we all wish we could sing like Jennifer Lopez, or look like her, or, oh never mind), but I am for sure Sally in the Mix, Sallisaw’s new, fabulous radio station that is. That could also be interpreted as in a mix or fix, meaning in trouble, which I usually am. When asked to come up with a title for these new literary efforts, that’s the best I could do.

And I immediately proved that Sally in the Mix, or in a fix, is absolutely true. I did that one late evening while trying to get into the new KXMX building on Kerr Boulevard in Sallisaw. As I tell my sources, news doesn’t all happen between 9 and 5. News has the audacity to show up at any hour. So 10 p.m. was about normal, but I wasn’t prepared for a late-evening murder.

Nor was I prepared for the newly-installed security system, or its very LOUD alarms, all kinds of alarms, screaming at me like I was making some kind of prison break, which I immediately thought of.

It was like, “OMG, I’m going to jail!” I called the Boss. “The ALARM’S going off!” I screamed so he could hear me, as though he didn’t know.

“I know,” he said. “I called the company. They turned it off.”

“Whew,” was all I could say.

So I got busy, called my contacts, and got the news story done. No problem there. The only problem I saw was getting out of the building. I called the Boss.

“How do I get out of here?” was my really-need-to-know question.

Boss told me where the system’s number pad was. Hey, this is Sally in a Mix Fix, and I have never, ever claimed to be computer science savvy. I couldn’t find it. Never mind that it was right there, stuck to the wall, for all to see. After a 10 minute search in the dark, I stumbled upon the wall-mounted number pad.

Boss told me how to plug in the numbers, and I did so. Just like he said. Really. I really, really did. You know what’s coming don’t you. Yes, I proceeded to unlock building’s front door and, I swear, every alarm in a five-block area went off, again.

“EEK!”

I ran. I admit it. I panicked. I could see myself in handcuffs, in jail. So I ran. I locked that door, and I ran. Got in the old pickup truck and grabbed cell phone to call Boss back. Why does it all happen at once? By truck’s cab lamp I saw that, somewhere along the way, I had bumped hand hard enough to cause a shooting stream of blood that was proceeding to cover my cell phone. ‘Are you kidding me?’ I thought. Actually, I said it out loud to anyone who would listen. Nobody.

After stopping the flow of blood, and figuring out how to call Boss on cell phone, I finally managed to report that the alarm system was sounding again, and I, the coward, ran away. But now I was bleeding, and I really didn’t want to go to jail.

“Again!?!,” he said. “It’s still going off?”

“Yes,” I confessed.

He’s a pretty nice boss, but I did have to go back into that building, where alarm was screeching still, and find the alarm system pad, then punch in all those numbers he read off to me, and a bunch of other stuff.

At last, silence.

I thought about sneaking out of the building and somehow not opening the door or even trying to lock it back, just leaving it open, to avoid any sort of alarm. But that wouldn’t be nice, so I didn’t. On the other hand, I will not be going into that building after 5 p.m. EVER AGAIN!

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