I'm a simple emigrant and I don't like bombs

On one of those Fridays that I had dreamed about after work, calmly lying around with treats and watching a TV show, some commotion began. My friend and neighbor, whose windows face the other side of the building, came and told me that there were a lot of police in front of the building and that something was happening. We started googling information — we found nothing. But we kept monitoring, and then, in our building group, a screenshot from Twitter appeared! It was the Frankfurt fire department's account. They were reporting that right in front of my building a World War II bomb weighing 50 kg had been found. The thing is, in Frankfurt there are many such bombs underground, and whenever any construction starts and they dig a trench — they check for their presence. Cute, right? Anyway, I sat and waited for them to fly in by helicopter and evacuate me. No one flew, and a new tweet appeared. In it, the firefighters asked everyone to evacuate by 6 p.m., and it was ten to six. Just like that, by tweet; no sirens, no loudspeakers, no police knocking on the door. I gathered my belongings: money, my phone, water and candies, in case anyone would feel unwell. Passport? Why... Still not believing that this was happening this way, I went outside and waited another 15 minutes for my friends to gather. For the evacuation, an exhibition hall nearby was designated, but we went to the center to walk around and have dinner. Another tweet promised that from 9 to 11 p.m. there would be bomb defusing, but at 11 another tweet appeared: “evacuation finished, we are starting!” My friends and I sat like homeless people in the lobby of the nearest hotel. Last time, the defusing took nine hours, so we checked the room prices. But, luckily, somewhere around 1 a.m. they took down the red-and-white tape and we could return home. Now I want to say, from the height of my experience: war is awful. #frankfurt #Ordnung