During the big '94 quake, we were just south of San Diego. We had been visiting some friends to pick up a bunch of computer equipment, and got back to the motel quite late. We were moving boxes from the pickup to the trailer and my husband commented that so close to the border, he was surprised the police hadn't been called by someone thinking we were smugglers.
In the middle of the night we were awaked by a loud banging at the door. My husband immediately thought it was the police. Having lived in CA, I woke up about half way, and my subconcious concluded it was an earthquake making the door rattle, but not a dangerous one (down there!).
My New England born husband will never let me live down my response. "It's ok dear, it's just an earthquake. Go back to sleep."