Mickey Z

Cool Observer

Warning: This blog has not been approved by
the Department of Homeland Security.

Saturday, January 20, 2007

Love in an elevator

(Here at Storytelling Saturday, we prefer the escalator)

Once upon a time...

Recently, I had reason to be in a Manhattan office building during the morning rush hour. After walking over to the elevators and smartly hitting the button marked with an arrow facing up, I watched as every single person who entered after me pompously pushed the same button...as if their push was the only one that truly counted. Also, despite the fact that another day at their uninteresting jobs was just seconds away, everyone was in a major hurry. Hence, they took it as a personal affront that an empty elevator was not there waiting just for their sorry ass.

This particular day, the elevator hadn’t arrived yet so the poor souls waiting for it did the indoor equivalent of leaning over to “watch” for the subway train: they mindlessly stared at the lighted board that tells us what floor each particular elevator is on. Yep, that’ll really expedite matters. All you need do is crane your neck to gawk at flashing numbers and before you know it, you’ll be jammed into that insignificant little cubicle you call home at least eight hours a day, five days a week, fifty weeks a year (if you’re serendipitous enough to get a two-week vacation).

Another sure thing: Just as the elevator doors are about to close, there’s always someone who forces her- or himself in for fear that he or she might actually have to wait one minute for the next elevator (again, what’s the hurry? It’s not like there’s a goddamned party going on upstairs). Then, once the doors have closed and tin receptacle begins to rouse, the elevator etiquette kicks in.

***To read the full Saturday story, please click on “more” below***

Who else wants to spin a yarn?
The comments section awaits...