It happened just like in those surveillance camera videos they show on the news.
I was at the gym when the earthquake hit. I had just finished a set of squats when the building began to shake. For the first few seconds, I thought it was a plane flying right over the building. When the shaking didn’t stop, I suddenly got that oh shit! feeling.
The huge mirrors that lined the walls and the huge windows on the side were going crazy. Ceiling tiles started falling down. All I could think of was to find something to duck under. Strength training machines, weight racks, treadmills—nothing you’d want to be hiding under. I saw people gathering under a doorway, so I quickly made my way over.
When the shaking stopped, we were evacuated outside while some of the employees checked for damage. Most people went home, so once we were let back inside, “we” had shrunk down to only a handful of gym-goers. Going back inside after the earthquake felt a bit like tempting fate. But I had set aside that time for working out, so goddamnit I was going to work out.
Later in the evening, I asked my roommate about the earthquake when he got back from the Warriors game and he said, what earthquake?
Good thing I asked that right when he got in the door because he found all his drawers half open. Now that would’ve been an awkward conversation…
Dude, were you going through my clothes?
Uhh, nooo…