I used to work in a building that had really fast closing elevators. The moment you approached them, they'd slam closed and you'd be left in the lobby. Another one would open and then I'd run over only to have the doors slam on my face.
I didn't work there for very long but I think it rattled me because now every single time an elevator closes before I can get to it, I think that maybe I could have stopped it by sticking my arm in it or something and I vow that next time I will. I never do.
Until earlier this week. That was when I snapped. I saw the elevator doors closing and I ran up to shove my arm in. I must have hesitated at the last minute because I only managed to get my fingers in before the door closed on them.
It was at that moment that it suddenly occurred to me that perhaps I was doing something stupid. It was also the same moment that instead of working my trapped hand out, I shoved my other hand in and began to pry open the doors. After a tense moment, they opened.
This would have been perfectly fine, had there been no witnesses but it just so happened that a couple of my coworkers were standing right behind me. Lovely.
But now that I have a taste for blood I've been tempted to do the same thing over and over. It's kind of like having a touch with death and seeing what's on the other side. Only kind of.
Not really.
Friday, August 03, 2007
I pry open elevator doors with my bare hands. You will bow to my awesome strength.
Posted by erin at 11:47 PM
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