On the road for NERDZ GARAGE and staying at a nice-ish resort hotel. Day two the elevator was reluctant to open the doors when it landed at the lobby. Swift thinking, we pulled the doors apart and that nudge was enough for the elevator to do the job intended, open and close. Leaving the next morning, we waited a looooong time the elevator to reach the twenty fifth floor. With luggage in tow we entered the elevator to find a family of five unhappy because it decided to go up and retrieve us rather than going down to the pool. It then preceded to stop at every floor which was not comical to the family who seemed to think my magical powers were ruining their morning. We knew the elevator was having “issues” from yesterday’s incident that almost put me in a panic attack, so the family cursing me in their minds was not distressing….yet.
Twenty third floor, the doors open and family groans. Clearly, from above, we can hear that there are workmen with walkie talkies. Door closes and open again the next floor. The teenager standing by the floor buttons is pressing the “door close” button frantically like it was a morphine drip at the hospital after a surgery. Door closes.
Door opens at twenty first floor and there stands a family dressed for a day at the pool. Keep in mind there are already seven humans, two suitcases and various and sundry pool noodles/toys. Right as the door was closing the dad pushes his two tween daughters in the elevator and chants “see you at the bottom” as he runs to, I assume, the stairs to get away from the now very unhappy wife because her precious daughters were thrust into an already packed elevator. The tweens are completely embarrassed that dad have given them a gentle shove and stare gloomily at each other. Door closes.
I dare say it is snug and I am beginning to question the amount of air left in the lift and smirk to myself that I am taller than the children and there will be more air for me. The elevator goes down three floors and we all give a sigh of relief, except for the family that thinks I mentally pushed all the buttons to screw up their day.
Floor eighteen, the door opens and a family with a luggage cart so full they must have been here for weeks, politely states that they will wait for the next one. The only sounds are the girl pressing feverishly door close button and workmen’s voices that have turned a little heated. Door closes and we are trying not to touch each other, but we are jammed in thanks to dad tossing his tweens in and are now completely ignoring the situation and deeply enthralled on their phones which I can read because I am right next to her. I could not even text Derek my funny thoughts or worries because we are all that close.
Floor fourteen and the poor elevator is now acting super fatigued or overworked because the doors were sluggish to open. There stands a grandma and her grandson who starts walking in because he is little and just thinking pool pool pool. Grandma grabbed him by the shoulders and tells him we don’t want that. Yes, we don’t either! Girl feverishly hitting door close button- click click click and I do breathing exercises to calm my head as to not just reach over and slap her hand away from the button, (that is probably damaged like my soul at that moment.) Door closes.
Door slightly opens on floor twelve, we hear loud clangs and then we witness a humongous wrench fly past us heading to the lobby. The wrench is taller than most of the occupants in this Steven King elevator ride. Door closes and we make to floor nine!
Door opens and it is a clutch of old-er ladies and the one who looks like either a lot of fun or a lot of trouble, literally leaps in letting us know she is small and will fit. Honestly, I can’t see her in front of the two tweens, but her face must be pressing on the door. I am pretty sure the elevator wanted us out as much as we did. I start estimating our combined weight and we had to be getting close to capacity.
Floor eight it stops, but does not open the doors. We were all ok with that. I find out later that there a small boy behind me in the back who must be scarred for life and will be a stair walker from now on.
Finally, the lobby and no one is getting out because the pool is the next level down. I am OVER IT and sternly say getting out and start moving forward like herding cattle. They did not want to give up their elevator because had just ONE more floor to go, but my will was strong. The old-er woman and the two tweens let us pass and as we exit we see multiple unhappy workman, angered chief engineer and vacationers. As we head for valet I hear on the chief engineer’s walkie talkie “it would work better to speak to me and not bark at me.” Then I believe I learned some Colombian swear words. We both just look at each other in amusement because it was a perfect Saturday Night Skit that we just lived.
Suzanne
Art Credit Robert Krulwich