Elevators

So. After getting home yesterday from a beautiful bike ride, it was time to take the elevator in my building up to the 5th floor with the bike.

After holding the door of the elevator open for a man in crutches, I declined his offer of going up with him, because I didn't want to crowd him with my bike.

When I road up at last it stopped at the fourth floor where a women was waiting to go down.

She asked "down?" I said, "nope. Up"  The door closed, and then.....nothing. like. Nothing. I stood for a minute. Literally 60 seconds holding my breath. Then I started swearing and muttering and sweating, muttering some more. It had never paused this long before.

I fanned myself with a large advertisement for pizza I'd just picked up from the mailbox and then pressed the 5 button again....
Waited.
Then proceeded to press it...more!  (Think 20 times?)

What feels like 5 minutes pass which in real time is probably 1.
Then the yelling started but in an awkward apologetic way....
"Is anyone out there?  Hello? Anyone?  I'm stuck in the elevator!   Cab you hear me?!?"  A little more silence goes by along with panting...then I text my husband who happens to be in Spain..

Hi. I'm stuck in our elevator.
Whoa!   he writes back.

So it's getting pretty warm at this point. I have no idea where the heat is coming from, so I automatically assume that it's the elevator wires going out and I'm about to drop to my doom. An elevator can overheat?  Maybe!

So. I press all the buttons. 1,2,3,4.....of course the door open button doesn't work. Of course, which I also try 20 times, willing it to work with my mind.

More apologetic yelling...anyone there?  Anyone out there?  And some pawing of the door like a desperate kitten. Tap. Tap. Knock knock knock. Hello?  (Think of that scene in 6th sense where the boy is trapped in the box, and then just stops all the sudden)  that was me.

Suddenly there's a little voice of a man, probably a teenager waiting for the elevator a floor below..."hit the button lady!"

I whisper ...Oh. sure. Yeah. Ok.

Because obviously there is now a magic button I'm unaware of that I should be pushing that would get me out of this small overheating box of death.

I don't even respond. I just start pushing every button I can. I'd been avoiding the alarm button, because the Minnesotan in me refuses to make a fuss yet. I'll wait a good 5 minutes more before really losing my shit by jove.

I'd already tried the help button, which is of course disconnected. (Just so everyone knows that...yeah....help button...no help will be coming any time soon people!)

I slump to the floor.

Finally, a few minutes later, I have reached total freakout and it's time to hit the alarm button, which is how I find out, it's the equivalent to a school bell ringing, no phone call to the fire fighters, no person running to my aid. I'm on my own.   I press it a few times for a few seconds. It does absolutely nothing. Just noise. An alarm it truly is. Like your wake up alarm that no help is comng. No help, just a lot of annoyed neighbors trying to ignore me and hoping I stop ringing that obnoxious bell.

At this point in real time I'm 10 minutes in breathing heavily sitting on the floor of my personal dooms day machine sweating like a pig.  Then Rodolfo texts me a thought to ponder, he writes to just give it a few minutes and maybe it will reactivate. The electro engineer that he is, this gives me hope.

2 seconds. 2 flipping seconds later, without any noise, the doors magically open....yes, a happy ending! 

Kind of....

They haven't opened since.  The elevator doesn't work. I saw a lot of cranky old people carrying up their groceries in their carts up the stairs, not to mention the joy it will be to carry my bike 5 flights up this evening, or Rodolfo coming home from the airport with two overloaded suitcases.

No one said this move was going to be easy. Character building!  Self confidence. This is all a test of what I'm truly made of. True grit. That's me.