Earthquake Etiquette

How polite is one supposed to be in an earthquake?

That was the question on my mind yesterday afternoon. I was crammed into a fairly small library at a law firm with six people having a meeting. About halfway through the meeting an earthquake hit. It was only a 3.8, so not a biggie, but it turned out the epicenter was in nearby Berkeley, so we could really feel it.

The quake came as two sharp jolts and I could actually feel the bookcase that my chair was against move back and forth. At the time, I was wondering if this is the start or the end of the quake. Are we all done or is this going to be like Loma Prieta and keep building and building? While I'm thinking this I'm looking at the little conference table in the middle of the room. It has room for maybe three people under it at the most. So, if things really start shaking, it's three people under the table and the rest fend for themselves in the library.

Now if this was the movie version of my life, the scene would work out like this: Matt Damon, playing me of course, would immediately insist that everyone else get under the table. He would stand on top of the table as the rest quiver below and deflect ceiling tiles and law books as they started raining down while saying what would certainly become the movie's catch phrase, "Bring it on, Tectonic Plate. Bring it on!" Once the quake subsides, he would deflect an unexpected Ninja attack and everyone would be safe.

As this wasn't the movie version, but my actual life, I was in a sort of a quandry. Should I push the people next to me under the table if things start shaking again? Or, should I dive under the table. Really, how much politeness is required during an earthquake. I mean I really don't know these people. I could always say I thought I had dropped my pen under the table and was just retrieving it.

Well, the earthquake didn't return and rather than having to dig down deep and answer the question about who would end up under that table I instead spent the rest of the meeting trying not to stare at the ring pierced through the center of the nose of the woman facing me. It was kind of hard to stay focused with my brain spending more time analyzing the nose ring than the meeting conversation. ("That had to hurt. What if she has a cold? Does it get caught on stuff? If she had her nose pierced, then what else...")

I guess maybe the message is that chivalry isn't dead. It just gets a little strained at times.