Living in a high-rise apartment, I meet – uh er – interesting, yeah that’s the word – individuals all the time in the elevator.
There’s the nut bar of a neighbor I have across the hall. He’s pretty creepy, often waiting by his apartment door to talk to anyone who happens by. He really needs a life.
Then there is the pothead down the hall. I caught him once smoking up in the elevator. I was waiting for an elevator to go down and just as the doors opened, there he was, with a joint hanging out of his mouth. He quickly grabbed it and placed it behind his back hoping I didn’t notice. I didn’t say anything – I don’t care.
But sometimes I see other creepy characters in my elevator adventures. How do I deal with them?
Easy – I misdirect ‘em.
The elevators in my building are old and don’t have any directional arrows telling you if they are going up or down. As I live on the upper floors, whenever I catch an elevator it is usually going down.
But, when others get on, often they ask before getting on if it is going up, or down.
I take a closer look . . . hmm . . . is this someone I’d be comfortable in a small metal box with?
If not, then I tell them the elevator is going up – even if it is going down. They thank me (sometimes) and back out, waiting for the next one, leaving me in peace to proceed on my way.
If the person looks somewhat normal, I’ll be honest with them and tell them which way it really is traveling.
Misdirection – the tool to survival in a high-rise.
Especially with all the crazies out there.
Just got back and some bozo got on the elevator looking like a white man trying to be black. He was all “pimped out” with the white dress shoes, the white pants 10-sizes too large hanging off his ass, the oversized white shirt with some big number on it, and the backwards facing baseball cap, large fake gold chains and dark tinted sunglasses. Not sure why he needs sunglasses seeing as it is dark outside in the middle of the night, but I didn’t want to know.
Misdirection – works like a charm.
“Thanks dude, I’ll feel ya later,” he said as he left the elevator.
I think not – I don’t plan on appearing on Jerry Springer anytime soon.
White trash aside, there are some people that are okay to ride the elevator with.
There’s a sweet little old lady that always has a smile on her face. There’s the property management and supers. Knowing who to call when something breaks is one thing, being on a good buddy-type term with those who you call when something breaks is even better.
There are kids, which come onto the elevator, throwing their ball against the doors. I always tell ‘em I’m going up, usually that works. Though I guess they play with other kids in the building too, because sometimes they say “cool” and get on anyways.
Funny, they don’t seem to notice when we go down, despite me telling them that we were going up. And they say children are our future . . . sheesh.
So there you have it – when stuck in an elevator, you know how to ensure you don’t get stuck with the wrong crowd. Just use a little misdirection.
There’s the nut bar of a neighbor I have across the hall. He’s pretty creepy, often waiting by his apartment door to talk to anyone who happens by. He really needs a life.
Then there is the pothead down the hall. I caught him once smoking up in the elevator. I was waiting for an elevator to go down and just as the doors opened, there he was, with a joint hanging out of his mouth. He quickly grabbed it and placed it behind his back hoping I didn’t notice. I didn’t say anything – I don’t care.
But sometimes I see other creepy characters in my elevator adventures. How do I deal with them?
Easy – I misdirect ‘em.
The elevators in my building are old and don’t have any directional arrows telling you if they are going up or down. As I live on the upper floors, whenever I catch an elevator it is usually going down.
But, when others get on, often they ask before getting on if it is going up, or down.
I take a closer look . . . hmm . . . is this someone I’d be comfortable in a small metal box with?
If not, then I tell them the elevator is going up – even if it is going down. They thank me (sometimes) and back out, waiting for the next one, leaving me in peace to proceed on my way.
If the person looks somewhat normal, I’ll be honest with them and tell them which way it really is traveling.
Misdirection – the tool to survival in a high-rise.
Especially with all the crazies out there.
Just got back and some bozo got on the elevator looking like a white man trying to be black. He was all “pimped out” with the white dress shoes, the white pants 10-sizes too large hanging off his ass, the oversized white shirt with some big number on it, and the backwards facing baseball cap, large fake gold chains and dark tinted sunglasses. Not sure why he needs sunglasses seeing as it is dark outside in the middle of the night, but I didn’t want to know.
Misdirection – works like a charm.
“Thanks dude, I’ll feel ya later,” he said as he left the elevator.
I think not – I don’t plan on appearing on Jerry Springer anytime soon.
White trash aside, there are some people that are okay to ride the elevator with.
There’s a sweet little old lady that always has a smile on her face. There’s the property management and supers. Knowing who to call when something breaks is one thing, being on a good buddy-type term with those who you call when something breaks is even better.
There are kids, which come onto the elevator, throwing their ball against the doors. I always tell ‘em I’m going up, usually that works. Though I guess they play with other kids in the building too, because sometimes they say “cool” and get on anyways.
Funny, they don’t seem to notice when we go down, despite me telling them that we were going up. And they say children are our future . . . sheesh.
So there you have it – when stuck in an elevator, you know how to ensure you don’t get stuck with the wrong crowd. Just use a little misdirection.
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