Wednesday, June 22, 2016

"I really don't mind," she said.

We were in a real hurry, Joe had picked me up from work, rushed me home, and because we were so pressed for time, we changed our routine. Normally, Joe comes in with me, helps me into the apartment and then goes and parks the car. I am so much stronger now because of the weight lifting that I thought we could try something different. I asked Joe to help me into the building, we don't have disabled access doors, and then I'd get to the apartment, and in, myself. He agreed.

Once in, I pushed the button for the elevator and was alone when one came. With Joe there I back in, I realized I couldn't do that alone because the door would close before I got in. No one else was there to let on first so I began to roll in, I got in, turned so I could push the button, and was surprised that the door wasn't closing. I thought maybe I hadn't pulled in enough. I turned to look and a woman was holding the door open. I saw her and she said, I swear I don't make this shit up, "That's OK, I'll take the next elevator."

Now, the way I was in did preclude her getting on, but, what?

I said, "Thanks."

She said, I swear, "I really don't mind waiting for the next elevator." Her hand was firmly planted such that it blocked the door from closing.

I said, "Thanks."

She said, I really do swear, "It's really OK for you to go by yourself, I can take the next one."

Her hand didn't move and the elevator was now protesting the blockage and beeping.

I said, "Thanks, could you let the door go now please?"

She said, do I have to swear again, "I'll just wait here in the lobby and take the next one, you go on up yourself."

I'm now frustrated. I want to get up, because I've got to get in, eat a really quick lunch and head out for a meeting downtown. I said, "Let. The. Door. Go."

She said, even to my incredulity, with the elevator beeping loudly, "You go ahead then, I'll wait for the next one."

I sat there. I didn't look at her. I didn't engage with her. I just let the elevator say in it's own dialect, 'get your hand of my freaking door.'

That worked.

She let go.

And presumably, though I'm guessing here, waited for the next one.


Liz Miller said...

I can't even guess what she was thinking

Alicia Butcher Ehrhardt said...

Deer in headlights.

When pressed for time, sometimes the brain just goes on vacation.

And then, of course, she'd be embarrassed at figuring out what she did.

You can't win these. If you're in a whimsical mood, you can do many things. Sing. Keep talking. Wait for someone else, or for her to notice.

Eventually the brain comes back online and can be used.

Hindsight is 20/20; foresight, not so much.

Jarret Whalen said...

I find this very rude on her part to stand there like you owed it to her to give her the elevator since she was being nice to you. And in what world is it someones right to tell you its okay to use the elevator because i will use the next one. Like give your head a shake lady.