The Alarming Toll of Home Security

The worst sound since the tardy bell is the scream of the burglar alarm gone berserk.

I know the alarm is supposed to protect me from evildoers, to make me secure in my home. However, I have never had a really clubby relationship with mine. The last time I was dismayed by it was when my section of Pasadena had a power failure that caused the system to make a high squealing noise. I called the company and there was no answer because it, too, was without power and telephones.

I finally found an old number and called a friend in this strange business, and he sent over a man who throttled the machine. The next day, I called my company and they sent someone over to turn it back on. Then they sent me a bill for the man’s trip. I called and pointed out that I had tried to call my company and was finally forced to call someone else.

Now I have received a bill for $60 from the second company, the one that turned the alarm off. My company agreed that I didn’t owe them any money, after a spirited conversation. But do you think that they will pay the $60? Neither do I.

My friend Geri had a recent dust-up with a friend’s security system. She is now resting in a quiet place and able to take a little clear broth.

Here’s what happened, as told to me. The friend was going out of town to attend a family wedding and asked Geri to come in and water her plants. Geri agreed. She has done it before in the past.

After two or three days, Geri went to her friend’s residence, a condominium. She went down the exterior hall and opened the door with the key she had been given. Then with the assurance of a competent woman who had performed this chore before, she punched in the combination. Then she went to a cupboard in the kitchen, reached down and took out the sprinkling can. Just then bells rang and sirens screamed.

Geri threw the unoffending sprinkler across the kitchen and ran to the alarm pad. She punched in the combination and the noise seemed to grow louder. Then she ran to the telephone and began to riffle wildly through the pages of her friend’s personal telephone book. She found a name that sounded as if it might be an alarm company. It was a weather stripping company.

Then she called a friend who has a burglar alarm system and explained her plight. The friend could easily hear the trouble clattering and screaming over the phone.

Geri tried another number in the book and a woman told her she had pushed the wrong number.

She finally hit the magic combination of numbers and silenced the monster. Then the buzzer rang, which meant someone was at the security gate. Geri went to the phone and answered. It was her friend with the burglar alarm system, Denise. “What are you doing?” Geri screamed.

“I have come to help you,” Denise said.

“I don’t know what to push to let you in,” Geri told her.

Then she went back and pushed the numbers to set the alarm again. She had long since given up on watering the plants. Then the doorbell rang and a voice called, “It’s Denise.” Another tenant had let her in.

Geri ran to the door and threw it open and Denise walked in and so did the sound of an explosion in a bat cave. The alarm went off again, quite properly, when Geri opened the door.

Then the two ladies bent over and ran as fast as they could, only pausing to slam the door.

Things are sort of all right. The alarm people or the police came and turned the awful thing off. Geri’s friend returned from the family wedding. The flowers and plants were not dead but looking poorly. The alarm company is impatient with Geri’s friend for giving her key to such an electronically inept plant sitter. Geri and her friend still speak, keeping the conversation to innocuous subjects.

I don’t know what the alarm company will charge Geri’s friend. Probably about $60.