I was guilty of the infamous fire drill this morning at 7:14!!!

Or so I thought. I wasn't, really. But I only found that out when it was already too late: I was walking with hundreds of half naked, bleary eyed, wet, scraggy, grumpy, dazzled, dizzy, uncombed, barefoot, cold students towards the Scarmann House parking lot, wearing nothing more than my nice, long, warm, woolen overcoat. And my keys in the pocket.
I was in the middle of my morning shower, having woken up bravely at 7, when the alarm went off. I almost didn't hear it because of the noise in the bathroom, but it was for real. The alarm had gone off and it was coming directly from the inside of my room.
Great! I had been trying to figure out how to regulate the temperature of my shower, which generated more steam than usual. Although my bathroom door was closed as instructed, I also suspect that the exhaust in the bathroom wasn't working, and got really scared that I had caused a fire alarm which would upset many people and bring direct consequences to me (big brother is watching you, the induction talk in the Arts Centre was scary enough).
Anyway, out of the shower, grabbed the towel, started to dry myself while opening the curtains to be able to open the window to let the steam which I wasn't seeing but was sure to be there to get out of the room and make the alarm stop. Outside my room, which lies exactly beside the dorm's entrance, people watching my struggle with the two layers of curtains, towel and window lock. I don't mind people seeing me naked, have nothing to hide. And if somebody doesn't like, shouldn't be looking into one honest guy's window.
Dropped the towel, opened the closet, grabbed my long, warm, woollen overcoat, tried to slip into my leather shoes. No way, feet too wet. Dump the shoes, opened the door and locked it open (for the suspected steam to go out the room), out! Forgot my keys, back inside; there, on the table!
Everything less hectic now, everybody directed to walk the path to Scarmann Road. Scarmann Road?? Yeah, the fucking Scarmann House parking lot, just opposite the Business School, almost 10 minutes away. And the frigging pathway is covered with small and sharp gravel, reminding that I haven't walked barefoot in years. Very sensitive soles, I should be ashamed.
But I wasn't. Things around were too interesting for me to be ashamed, and I wasn't even in the worst state. There were girls who were barefoot, in shorts and tops, hurting their feet and shivering. And another guy had only his pyjama pants on, also feeling quite cold, it seemed. Ah, my long, warm, woollen overcoat.
Back to the room, into the hot shower as quickly as possible. I was (and am) afraid of making my flue get even worse.
Out of the shower, alarm again. But faint, in the distance. Lakeside 3 and 4, this time. But they don't have to walk all the way to Scarmann House. Oh, this unfair world! I dressed myself properly this time, took my camera and went out in plunder mode; I wanted to document the misery I was subjected to in other people's faces. But it seems I am too nice a guy and didn't take any pictures. Or maybe I was afraid of the possibility of being lynched by a furious mob of half naked students.
At least the whole operation secured me a nice breakfast. Not a bad way to start the day at all.

P.S.: Chirs has also written about it, of course. But he wasn't that positive about the whole thing.