Thinking on an Elevator

This ever happen to you: You enter an elevator with at least one other person, and press the button for your floor. Then you get that little thought.

Please don't pick a floor lower than mine.

Inevitably, if you even entertain that idea, they will DEFINITELY pick a floor that comes before yours. Oftentimes, they select the very first floor up, and you just want to grab that person by the throat and ask them why in the world they need an elevator to go up one floor?! ONE!

It elicits a very personal reaction too. I think I actually began to hate these people. Don't you sometimes start to believe they're doing this on purpose just to piss you off? Maybe they are.

There's just something so pleasing about a direct elevator ride to your floor. It's like catching all the green lights on the road, getting bumped up to 1st class for free on an airplane, or just having a really good BM.

Today, however, sucked. I live about halfway up my building, and six people entered with me. Mathematically, each one had an equal probability of picking a floor higher than mine or lower. 3 above, 3 below, I can deal with it. But then I got that little thought.

Turns out they all lived on different floors, and all below me. It's like ELEVATOR CONSTIPATION. The whole process is slowed, you become increasingly frustrated with each passing moment, and there's nothing you can do but simply wait it out until everyone unloads.

(I also may have been the first person to ever use and discuss the term "elevator constipation." Just saying.)

I'll tell you though, every time these neighbors of mine pushed a button, it was like a little man in my head would scream "GODDAMNIT!!!" and kick me the inside of my skull.

This is probably why I get nosebleeds.