Friday, November 2, 2007

At least the delivery guy was cute

Today I experienced what may be the ultimate claustrophobic nightmare: getting trapped in an elevator.

OK, well, at least I THOUGHT that I was trapped in the elevator, for like, almost two whole minutes. Or was it hours? It felt like hours.

I almost never get into the dodgy elevators at work. I take the stairs instead. Old as the hills are these elevators. They rattle and thunk, and do unreliable things like stopping with four inches difference between the elevator floor and the floor of the corridor. IF you do, foolishly, call the elevator, once the doors are open, there's always just enough time for everyone in the elevator to get out, and then the doors close in your face. If you try to hold them open, the elevator starts yelling at you and slowly, mercilessly pushes the door closed.

Today I had to get into one of the elevators to show a delivery guy how to put it on service. I had been given instructions on how to do this, but had never actually done it before. While I searched for the switch, the door started closing. I stuck my foot out to stop it, and immediately the loud, whining alarm started buzzing while the door did it's "overpowering the measly strength of humans" bit. So I took my foot back.

The doors shut. Neither I nor Delivery Guy pressed any buttons. The elevator started moving, on its own. It went up a few floors. Stayed there. The doors remained firmly shut. Went down a few floors. Paused. No opening. Went up a few floors. Still no opportunity to exit was offered. Almost like it was toying with us... like it had PLANS for us that involved lots of slow, elevatorish torture. Up. Down. MWAhahahahahah!

I was flooded by a huge wave of terrified helplessness. The evil elevator had us in its maw! Nothing could help us! We were TRAPPED! We might die here! My adrenal glands turned themselves inside out. All the blood in my body rushed to my face, or away from my face, or maybe both at the same time.

Then it occured to me to press the button for my floor. The elevator moved, stopped, and then after what seemed like an interminable delay, opened its doors. I stumbled out into the corridor. Never has that tiled, old, orange-painted corridor been so dear to me.

If anyone asks, I'm taking the stairs for the cardio benefits, okay?

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