The telephone utility room for the building is on our floor, adjacent to our reception desk. It's a glorified closet of wires and junction boxes. It looks like multicolor spaghetti on the walls. Right now, there are two alarms going off in that little room, but I have (1) no way to access the room and (2) no bazooka with which to blow through the fcking door. So we sit here, listening to the alarms - long, teapot style blow and three short beeps repeated. I called the building manager at 7:55 a.m. to notify her of the problem. And here we sit, an hour later, wanting to ram our heads into the wall.
I just hope they send someone soon.