Frazzled Marc, half way through my 40s!

Frazzled Marc, half way through my 40s!
Frazzled Marc, half way through my 40s!

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Elevator Madness

I have a general dislike for elevators. Call it my unnerving fear of being crushed into two parts from faulty doors while the elevator is moving. It could happen! It did! Google it! Poor woman in NYC a year or two back. The odds of a person dying in an elevator accident are 1 in 10,440,000 (according to the website www.BookofOdds.com) and I do not find any comfort knowing that I have a greater chance of being attacked by an alligator (1 in 104,600) or being injured by a drinking straw requiring a trip to the emergency room (1 in 166,600). Now I don’t consider myself to be phobic, just fearful. I will still ride them ... cautiously.

There are a set of elevators at my work that are continuously “on the fritz.” Because of this, I sometimes take the stairs to go up to our offices on the 3rd floor. I am in the basement level. It’s a good workout, keeps the legs in shape. But more often than not, I take my chances. The elevators are tempermental but for the most part, in workable order. It is often just a mild shaking or clanging as they make their way up.

First thing this morning, I took the elevators up to the 3rd floor to ask someone a question. It was just past 8:30, not even 10 minutes into my day. The elevator car slowly creaked up to the 3rd floor. The doors started to open and I went to step off the car …. then BAAAM!!! The doors swung violently open. I screamed “CRAP!!!!” and flung myself off of the car into the hallway like a clumsy frog, heart beating out of my chest. My pen and papers flew everywhere. Some dude from the architectural firm off the same hallway walked out of the mens’ room and got to witness my freak-out.

“Oh my god, did you just see that?! The door just violently opened slamming against the car!” I was breathing rapidly and heavily, trying to catch my breath.

“Yeah,” he said in a monotone voice, “It's been happening for a couple days.” He just kept walking into his office.

Uh… HELLO? I almost died here?? “WELL I GUESS I MISSED THE MEMO ON THAT!” I screamed after him. Mental note, take stairs from now on.

After I recomposed myself, I walked into our 3rd floor office and got my questioned answered. I asked a couple people about the elevator and they all said the same thing,”Oh yeah, it’s been like that since yesterday.” “Oh that’s why I take the stairs.” “I know, that happened to me on Monday.” Incredible, I received no memo, no email, no cute little FYI note with a smiley face stuck in the lunch room stating, “By the way, the elevator may make a slamming noise at the very top which may cause you to involuntarily crap your pants.”

I took a minute or two longer to say good morning to a couple favs up in the office and wandered out towards the 3rd floor lobby. Without thinking, I pressed the stupid elevator button. The elevator was apparently one floor below me and came up immediately, violently flinging the doors open “BAAAM!!!”

“DAMN IT!!” I jumped a mile and freaked. I screamed, “AGAIN!!” to know one in particular. I picked up my papers and pen and headed for the stairs, cursing under my breath.

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