Friday, December 15, 2006
 | This really has very little to do with elevators.
Current mood:  restless I did a backbend in the elevator on Tuesday. As soon as the doors closed and I was left all alone to ride four floors down to pick up the mail for SMART, I arched back and put my hands to the floor.
Immediately I heard a *ding!* The elevator was stopping at the second floor!! I quickly flung myself up and scampered to the wall; seconds later I was poised in the typical "i have better things to do" stance that all people have on elevators - bored, minimal personality, little to no acknowledgement of other human beings. I even leaned my head against the wall for an added effect of apathy.
But it was a facade, I tell you - a FACADE!! Ten seconds earlier I had been doing amateur gymnastics in a moving elevator! That's right Mister Financial Services Man!! And you walked right in with me and never knew!!
Ok so anyway. I really dislike being alone in an elevator with a man. I know it sounds silly because we are really only in there for seconds before one leaves or someone else joins the group.. but I still feel uncomfortable. At the very least, awkward. I mean, in what other part of life does a young female walk into a small dimly-lit space with a strange man and allow enormous metal doors to lock them inside? Well, I mean, that doesn't include alcohol of course.
The only time I didn't mind was about three weeks ago when I rode the elevator with the same nice boy two days in a row. The building is a high-rise and has six elevators; what's more, the two consecutive days we rode together were at completely different times of day. (I'm sure there is some kind of math equation that could calculate these impressive odds.) I assumed this astounding coincidence meant that he and I should go on a date. Granted, he really wasn't my type and it's not like we had much time in our fifteen-second ride to have a soul-connecting conversation. But the fortuity of it all seemed like the makings of the perfect "How We Met" or "Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan Forgettable Romantic Comedy" story.
Unfortunately, I have not seen Elevator Boy since. Maybe some things truly are just coincidences and nothing more.
Elevators make Super Nanc nervous; in layman's terms, they are roughly the Equine version of Kryptonite. Last Sunday when she took an elevator from the underground parking structure to attend a traditional Presbyterian church service and support her dos amigas, I was touched. That probably hadn't been on her top list of things to do that week. To put it simply, that would be like me riding a purple horse named after a dumb bitch. But for Nanc and a few other special individuals, I would do it. Sometimes the universe asks you to do things that go against your instincts. So you take one for the team because a friend needs it.
Or you do some therapy socializing to recoup some confidence. Or you are kind to an enemy so your heart can stop pumping venom. Or you do stupid human tricks in an elevator to keep a sense of humor during a less-than-ideal life phase.
I think next week I'm going to do the splits. |
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