I’m Sure That This Isn’t What Aerosmith Had In Mind

Well, it finally happened.

And to be honest with you, I never thought this occasion would ever happen while I was still a functioning carbon-based life form.

I actually had a life event that I’ve only seen in movies, read about on line or in magazines of dubious character. I am talking about, of course, getting stuck in an elevator.

No, what happened wasn’t even close to what takes place in Aerosmith’s Love in an Elevator (which happens to be one of my favorite songs by the way), no, this was a little more, shall we say, surreal.

It all started when I left the house. See, every time I leave “The Batcave”, I go through a mental check list to see if I’ve forgotten anything: Keys? Check. Phone? Check. Coffee? Oh most definitely! So, I am driving to a doctor’s appointment and since it is a new doctor, they want you to get there a half an hour before your first appointment so that you can fill out a litany of forms that they take in the back, laugh at then through away. I get about half way there and I see a farmer’s market and I’m thinking to myself, “I wonder if they accept debit cards…. oh snap! I left my wallet at home!” So, I turn around, head back to The Batcave, grab my wallet, tell my dog, Chicken, that “No, we are not going for another walk. I’ve only been gone like 15 minutes since the last one.” Grab my wallet and head back to the doctor’s office.

I get back in the car, thankfully, I hit a green light pretty much the whole way there. Upon arrival onto the grounds of the “Hallowed Halls of Medicine”, I found out that I faced a new dilemma: Find a parking spot.

What is it that every time we go to the doctor’s office/urgent care/hospital or anything that has to do with the healing of the human body, that there are more cars in said parking lots of these medical institutions than there are books at the Library of Congress? I kid you not, it’s almost to the point that you not only have to make an appointment to see your medical professional, but you also have to make an appointment just to reserve a place to park your vehicle of choice.

Yet this time, I got lucky. I found a spot to park. But not before this lady who gets in her car and I am thinking to myself “She’s going to pull out and then I can go ahead and take her spot.” That’s the way it’s supposed to work. That is what we call in the real world “Parking Lot Curtosey.” But obviously, this woman was raised by wolves or a member of Congress because she gets in her car, and then sits there and talks on her phone. No mention that she was not leaving. Nothing. Just sitting in her car and talking on her phone. Fortunately, another lady came up, got into her truck that was right next to the “Wolf/Congress-Raised Spawn from Hell” (No, I’m not being bitter here), pulls out and then I pull in, get out of my car and head inside.

Once inside, I notice that the place is packed with people. I head to the elevators and notice that there is a sign on one of two available elevators that says “Out of Order” and that there is a line of people waiting to get on. I thought about taking the stairs to the third floor, but then I knew I would have my blood pressure taken and I don’t need to hear a lecture about high blood pressure (which I don’t have to begin with), just because I took the stairs.

So, I wait in line and in goes a group of people, they disappear behind the steel door, a few minutes go by and then the elevator returns to the bottom floor empty as can be.  Which leads me to believe that either they were eaten by this piece of modern technology and I am going to die, or that the elevator worked and they are conducting their business on the other floors of this building. So, the doors open and the 7 people who get on ahead of me were what one would call “Senior Citizens.” Now, I don’t want to say they were old, but I am betting that at least 5 of them had personally signed Moses’ year book from high school.

By now, the 8 of us are inside and the doors start to close. We get about 5 seconds into our ride when the lights go out in the elevator and it stops. We are in a maybe 6 by 6 steel box, suspended between floors by 2 cables plus the fact that it’s pitch black in this box and not only is it getting warmer in there, but come to find out that one the occupants have a flatulence problem.

I take out my phone, turn on my flash light and press the call button. The emergency operator and I kid you not here, PUTS US ON HOLD and for the next 30 seconds, we are listening to “elevator music” (no pun intended).

When the operator does come back on, she asks “How can I help you?”

To which I answer two things: “Well, there are two things you can do for us, Ma’am. One, we are stuck in your elevator between floors. And two, you can validate our parking for us.”

Luckily for me, the other occupants started to laugh and it was at that moment that the elevator began to move. I reach my designated floor, step out of the elevator, and while not trying to make eye contact with the passenger who I thought had the flatulence problem, say goodbye to my fellow passengers and head off to my appointment.

Bear in mind that all this took place before 11:00 in the morning. If I told you what happened after this, you’d all go screaming off into the night.

So, until next time…

I now return you to your regularly scheduled life, already in progress.

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