Work this morning was interrupted when the marketing director rushed into my office and said “The Drug Store is on fire!”.
I work at an outdoor living history museum that includes a 19th-century town. We, like most museums, are always hrting for enough operating cash to keep our doors open and our exhibits in decent repair. Because so much is outdoors, it is less secure than having everything behind glass, barbed wire and motion sensors. We have to rely on the fact that there isn’t much with serious resale value to keep the ravening hordes at bay.
So seriously, what were you looking for in our 1875 drugstore? Leeches? Professor Savage’s Health Elixer? Do you think we have a period cocaine exhibit? Or are you just a garden-variety dickwad who felt like trashing an educational facility by breaking in and setting a fire?
This is the first time I’ve been happy that we have had so much rain recently. It’s hurt our attendance numbers but we could have lost a lot of buildings if you had pulled this shitty stunt in July. Everything was contained and no one was hurt. Still waiting to find out what we lost in the two buildings. I suppose I should thank you for not setting any of the animal enclosures on fire, although there might have been some amusement factor in cleaning up whatever remained of you after a couple panicked draft horses finished with you.
Lousy rant, I know, but I’m getting this out of my system before talking to the insurance adjusters this afternoon.