Lifts (or elevators) have the potential for so many awkward situations that it’s a wonder I even use them anymore. But I have to at work as the stairways are so well concealed and I therefore fall victim to one of the below:
- The “Nearly Trapped in the Closing Doors” Moment. Now I’d like to follow the rule of thumb that if a lift door is closing just wait for the next one but invariably one of the “passengers” will spot you making your way to said lift and try to keep the doors open for you. Of course, you now feel obliged to get into that lift pronto but your kind colleague’s efforts to hold the lift for you are never in sync with your arrival at the door. Now you must spend at least two seconds with a bunch of people who heard you yelp as you struggled to free your arm and bag from the metal pincers of the Lift Monster.
- The “Button Doesn’t Light Up” Fiasco. This has happened to me just once but is an awkward enough situation to warrant a mention. It is Embarassing; that’s right, with a capital Eeeeeh. I’m in the lift to go the 1st floor and I press the 1 button but it doesn’t light up. I panic because I may miss my floor as it rapidly approaches so I keep pressing the button. LIGHT UP DAMMIT! It seems however the lift has got the message but refuses to share this with me and promptly opens its doors to let me out. I peer over to the other set off buttons and alas, the number 1 shines in all its red glory. The embarassment of course is caused by the presence of your fellow passengers who all could see both the other set of numbers and me struggling with the dud set. Thanks a bunch.
- The “Marooned on an Island” Scenario. Lifts get busy. I hate being the last person to get on only to find all the safe havens against the wall of the lift are already occupied and I must now stand, stranded, in the middle of the lift; all shuffling feet and bowed head. Its like being a social outcast for a small amount of time, looked upon with a mixture of pity and disdain.
I haven’t mentioned The “Farting in the Lift and Everyone Knows it’s You” faux-pas because it has never happened to me but I recognise how that may blow these other moments out of the water.
Next in the series: Revolving Doors
the other week i forgot to choose my floor and i ended up on the third floor where the other person in the elevator got out. god knows what she must think of me.
I’m running elevator therapy sessions, you’re welcome to join.
I’ve done the last one in crowded lift thing. The trick is to be full of bravado and completely unashamed. Now the weather’s turned you can enjoy the waves of heat given off by the mute indignation behind you. The thing is they eventually feel small and petty by being infuriated by the fact you remain unaffected. They know that, in the space of a short journey in the lift, they have completely lost hold of a sensible perspective on life.
By the time you step off the lift victory is yours but you must control any impulse to shout “Losers!”. This only transfers victory to the oppostion or “members of the public” as they are sometimes known. See how gentle and mild sociopathy can be fun as well as kind to your hands.
I’ve updated my blog by lying about stuff, at least I’ve done something though.
Peace
I’ll try your method next time.
Welcome back. Have you ever lived in Luton?