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01 February 2005 - 13:32 Every weekday morning I walk to my downtown Montr�al tower and wait for the hellevator to take me 23 floors upwards. Being on the 24th* floor has it's perks. I get a fine view over the city. The air is...um... cleaner. I can see the pub from here. But then there are the downfalls. I choose my words VERY careully. For one, in the mad rush of the morning, I have to ensure that I arrive at the hellevator at least 10 minutes before my start time of 9am. As nice asit is to get a view of every freakin' floors hellavator area, it's a little like taking the milk train to New Orleans, stopping at every Buttsville and Hicksville town en route. Or a slow boat to china. Whichever analagy fit's best. Secondly, as happened this morning, the higher up you go - the more risk your life is in. Naturally. What are the hellevator fatality statistics for North America?? I wish to know. And why aren't they published? We have a right to know... Anyhoo... The hellevator stops at the 20th floor and lets out some lawyer dude, and I'm left with Sourface Bitterbitch (I don't know what her real name is: she works in the same company - but looks as though she is ready to bite the testicles off the nearest man who so much as breathes within 10 meters of her). The doors close and then the hellevator starts to shake. And then it drops. About a foot. Foot...mile... when you're dropping to certain death it's all the same. I grab at the handrail and SB looks at me as if to say "What the HELL are you doing? That won't save your sorry ass" There's a moment of silence and nothingness, then the elevator starts shaking again. and starts to go up. No I don't know what's worse. I've had a near death experience, and I'm think to myself that the last place I want to go is "up". So we make it to the 23rd floor and the door opens and I literally fling myself out of the deathchamber and int the hallway... SB calmly walks out, glares at me and disappears into the office to scare whoever else is in there... she didn't say a word. Not a word. We were survival buddies. I would have eaten her if I had to (mind - out - of - gutter - please)... and I would have offered myself had the shoe been on the other foot. I mean, come on. Where is the humanity? It's a crap entry today, but at the time it was really scary. Really, it was. And I think I let out a little bit of wee. *point of clarification. The elevator goes to the 23rd floor, I then walk up stairs to the 24th. Now worry about something important, weasel.
   My life is rated NC-17. What is your life rated? |
