Stuck In The Middle With You

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Eliza
This funny post today was written by my high school friend, Eliza.  My hope is that anyone who reads this blog today will show Eliza some comment love. I am hoping to convince her to start writing again in her blog, Five Foot Shorts (click to go visit/follow).  Eliza started writing it a while ago, but has only written a few posts. The other day she wrote this piece about being stuck in an elevator and featured it as a “note” on Facebook. I cracked up. The blogosphere needs Eliza!

Stuck In The Middle With You

Okay, so the mother of all my fears came to life today at work. Had to go into work early for a meeting and we were relocating to another part of the building to continue the meeting. We stepped into the elevators that I hate, because they are older than the ones in the new wing. They go sooo slow. You can hardly tell if you are moving or not. I always make fun of them and say they are powered by fat hamsters. So, yup, you guessed it. We got stuck.

This is absolutely awful for me, because, besides the fact that I have a history of fainting, I am claustrophobic. So this is a lose-lose situation for me.
My fear is so great that I even have a plan should I ever get stuck in an elevator.

If I am by myself, I will push every damn button in there hoping something might happen. If that fails, then I will push that “Call Button” thing and make the person on the other end stay on the line with me, like a 911 call. I will have him or her pen out my will should I plummet to my unforeseen death. I am always sure to have some sort of candy or gum in my purse. I have to have something to eat. I’m pretty sure I should start permanently carrying ham or maybe jerky around with me.

If I am with another person, I will calmly pull out my elevator survial contract, hand it to the other person and be sure they read and sign it. I can’t have someone stealing all my jerky or trying to pee in my designated pee corner, should we get trapped for a prolonged amount of time. They also need to know that the call button is mine! I carry a gel pen with me at all times, as well, and those things are SHARP!!! I will cut you!

Panic instantly set in when I realized we were not moving. The lights stayed on (Thank God!) but we were surely not moving. I had just drank an ass-load of coffee. Sadly, my plan did not include being in there with co-workers nor did it include being in there with more than one person. There were five of us. Five of us and only four corners!! I am not sharing a pee corner! I instantly pushed the call button. I think I might have pulled someone’s hair to get to it. I’m not sure. It’s really all a blur. It rang and then I felt myself getting all cold and clammy.

Crap.

I’m going down.

My initial instinct was to strip. I figured my nudity would distract my other prisoners from the fact that I was fainting. Just kidding. I only took off my extra sweater and jacket. Thank goodness I had shaved my armpits the night before or I would have been really hot.

Sweet Jesus.

How long have we been in here?

Where is my gel pen?

I started to feel like a Chilean miner. When were they going to start sending in provisions? That is why people die. They wait too long to send them supplies. I’m pretty sure we had already been in there a good two minutes. Someone else had gum and I gladly took it. I am not letting my supply go to waste

Someone said they had to pee, which instantly made me have to poop. I’m going to die.

People started to change the subject. I think I talked about Zumba and how much I hate it. I then had a conversation in my head with myself about whether or not I would be willing to eat my leather jacket, should it come down to it.

We’re still in here. It’s been about 5 minutes now and I’m positive my family doesn’t remember what I look like. We could hear people on the other side, but I’m sure they were just laughing at us.
At about 8-10 minutes, we were free. I instantly hugged the maintenance man who let us out. I smiled when I did it, because I was sure that CNN was going to be covering this.

They weren’t.

So now I’m sure he thinks I like him. I wonder if he would clean my house.

Anyway, I’m free now. I survived. I vow to not make in fun of the hamsters anymore. Really, I should vow to take the stairs. Thanks for listening.

I need to go work on my new elevator plan.

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