Going Up?

We have these two glass elevators at work. Everyone uses them because they are in the middle of the building and, I’m not going to lie, you feel a bit like Charlie in Wonka’s chocolate factory when you ride in them. So obviously, everyone rides in them, hoping we’ll get an everlasting gobstopper one of these days.

Anyway, today I came into work a little more perturbed than usual because of the snowy morning commute. But I arrive to work safely, get into the building and come to the glass elevators. I press the orange button for the one of the elevators and it lights up both buttons for both of them, because that’s just what happens.

A lady comes up behind me looking uber perturbed (so, I’m guessing her morning wasn’t going any better than mine) with her backpack, computer bag and tote looking a bit like a human pack-mule.

She presses the already lit button. Like four more times.

I mean everyone knows that the if you press the already lit button furiously over and over again, the elevator comes even faster! 

Wrong. So, so wrong.

She rushes into the elevator before me, because apparently she was raised in a barn where you don’t do the whole “first come, first served” thing. Whatever.

Of course, she is taking up half of this stupid elevator, but I figure I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt with her pack-muleness.

As soon as the doors are closing, a guy runs up and shoves his arm in the elevator. Dumb move, dude. His arm is smashed between the doors and then they spring open, much to everyone’s surprise.

And then, AND ONLY THEN, homeboy presses the button for the ground floor. THE GROUND FLOOR, PEOPLE!!!

We were in the basement and the stairs are right next to the elevator, but this guy, who is in his young twenties and looks quite able (at least as far as I can tell from when he sprinted for the elevator) decides he just “can’t even” with the stairs this morning.

Okay, so we have to stop on the ground floor for this dude. He gets off looking quite pleased with himself, because why not? Then the doors shut once more and we keep ascending…but only to the first floor.

There are about six people that need to get into the elevator on the first floor, so of course everyone has to press each button and then smush themselves against each other. To make matters worse, this was 8am. Translation: it was approximately 20 minutes after every one of the four men in the elevator applied their super strong musky smelling aftershave.

So I’m stuck in the smelly hotbox from hell with no ventilation until we make it to my floor; the top floor of the building.

I’m finally thankful for the people who are stopping on each floor because of the influx of fresh air to take away some of the stench.

We stop on the floor below mine and the woman pack-mule AND the smelly males get off, so I can finally breathe again.

Riding up to my floor alone, all I can think about is how I’m taking the stairs tomorrow.

Stairs

Should have listened to Pinterest and this whole thing could have been avoided…

Until next time,

C. Brooks

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