The Bloggings Will Continue Until Morale Improves
Let me illustrate a scenario to show the anxiety I sometimes feel when riding the elevator with some of these...the beautiful ones.
8:22 a.m.: Rushing to work, nearly late as usual, and are in a hurry to get to your floor which is nearly at the top of building (sound familiar?) only to have your efforts thwarted by others who you are forced onto the elevator with. There is an eerie painful silence, and your inner voice just tells you to be quiet, just let them ride and get off on their floor, it will be over soon, but the other voice forces its way out "We're lucky to have a working elevator today, huh?.... (Eerie silence followed by a cold nod)... MAN has it been hot this week... hope we get a little rain..." (still barely alive is your elevator cohort, who thinks it beneath them to acknowledge your polite elevator banter with any response, so finally... FINALLY the door opens, and they get out. [Would they wince if they saw your foot catapulting forward as if to kick them in the back of the head, as the doors closed? One can't be sure... But the fact remains that you're glad they're gone, so you can just get to your office in peace].
This time you are silent... polite and forced grin upon your face... staring up at...at what, I don't know, pretending there is something up there to which your eyes are magnetized... so that you don't have to make eye contact with these soulless creatures.
**watching the clock**
So you go to the hallway, and press the down button for the last time today...
A couple more people from your floor are lining up as well.
(There goes the lucky instance that you go down alone)
Elevator didn't take too long, so you all three get on... The other two are sharing a story from their days' work, so you smile, tapping your foot nervously... wondering, hoping...
The elevator begins its descent…
It stops on 29... 4 legal secretaries hobble on who have no idea what an inside (or in this case inside an elevator) voice is... They are laughing and tossing their heads, talking about the daily legal secretarial scenarios... (You had to be there... right).
The elevator stops again on 27, and 26... the elevator is packed full now (and you, consequently, are mashed to the back wall—hemmed in like a wild animal-Smelling the funky cologne of the person who’s skull you are staring at—is that ear wax hanging out his ear? Gag!)... You feel the sweat break out on your left brow... it's getting harder to breathe. The elevator stops at 24 (only 2 more floors to go before the downward spiral)... the doors open, but the people look on in horror at how many people are already on the elevator... and they pass--waiting for the next one (if there is a next one).
Maybe we're home free this time... No--the elevator stopped on 22... the last floor it could possibly stop on. But since it is so crowded the people won't get on i'm sure... No... these are brave souls, who fear no body odor... One of them is at least 300 pounds... great... Let's stuff em all in... Come on everyone huddle close together... maybe our body warmth will keep us alive. Holding your breath, you wince... trying to think of something... anything (what was that tune again??--by now you can't even hear the Musak)... Arrrrggggh... tapping of the foot, holding your purse closely... come on.... come on.... (Elevator is almost there... I just know it)...
----THE END?----
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PS: There's nothing worse than an elevator with the stench of fart!