Elevator #3

Elevator #3

I’m staying at a nice hotel. Like a Sheraton or Hyatt. Lots of patterned carpets, bellboys, brassy lobby, and chandeliers. I ordered a tuna fish sandwich, and was heading back towards my room with the sandwich in my hand. We were on the top floor. Several of us are waiting forever for the elevators. Finally one comes, and about 8 or 10 Chinese people and I get in. We press our floors, and wait like you always do in the elevator. The elevator slowly passes each floor without stopping. As it passes the floors, it gains speed, zipping by each floor faster and faster. People start pressing the buttons furiously, trying to make it stop. Someone starts to panic, and I press the emergency buttons. No use. The lady next to me, grabs hold of me, and wraps her arms and legs around me. We are really moving fast now. It looks like we are going to die in a very nasty way. I think about when I should jump up in the air in order to counteract the crash at the bottom. Then it occurs to me to try to open up the top like in the movies. The elevator keeps dropping. A child begins to cry, but the rest of us are deathly silent. Morosely watching the lights representing each floor zip past. I jump up and down furiously, banging my head against the top until the emergency hatch opens. I can see the cables and shaft above. I wonder if I jump out and grab hold of a cable will I destroy my hands and fall to my death. Does it really matter. I should at least give it a try. Then I look around the elevator, and try to think about how all these poor people will be able to jump out with me. Doesn’t seem likely. Too many women and children. By now we are at like B27 or something, picking up speed, then as we are about to hit bottom, the elevator swooshes to a halt, making us all lurch to our stomachs.

We stumble out into the cosmetics section of a department store, and people start to spread out, having ran out of the elevator. I’m laughing and angry at the same time. Furious with the hotel management for having such an elevator, and tell everyone that we must go to the hotel management together and demand an explanation and compensation for nearly being killed. I say that if we go together it will be more forceful.

We go to the boss’s office, and I explain the matter. We were all nearly killed. He looks very concerned, and takes out a piece of paper with several names on it. One name is circled. “This is a list of maintenance chiefs. I’ll find out who was on duty, and we’ll go talk to him.” I notice that one name is circled. He points to the list and says “I bet Schneider was on duty.” He gets on the phone and speaks to someone. “Yes, we’ll be right down.”

We all go to some elaborate technical control room with flashing lights and video monitors, and panels representing the movement of elevators throughout the hotel. There is a red headed woman in a blue dress and an overweight balding man in a wrinkled white shirt. They ask me very professionally to explain what happened, and I explain how we had all got on the elevator, and where, and how it started passing floors picking up speed until it nearly hit the bottom before stooping. The woman asked me, “Why didn’t you use the emergency button.”

“I did,” I said dryly.
“Then why didn’t you push the off button.”
“We did that too. Don’t you think we tried everything we could to save out lives?”
“Well I guess you would,” she said embarrassed.

They started scrolling through all the elevator still shots on the video camera, and looking down all the shafts. Elevators were coming and going everywhere. The asked me if I knew which one it was. I told them that it was number 3. The middle one.

They punch a bunch of buttons on the computer, and a computer representation of the elevator comes on the screen. We’re going to run it through a test and see what happens. They make the elevator begin moving, and stopping at each floor. It works perfectly.
I say, “Now put 11 people in it. About 800kg and see what happens.”

They press some more buttons, and little circles appear representing people. They press go, and the elevator begins moving slowly, passing each floor, gaining speed and dropping like crazy.

“You see.” I say smugly.

“”Oh my god, it must’ve been a nightmare,” says the red haired lady. “I’ll go right away and check on it.” She leaves, and the balding man looks concerned. The boss invites us back to his office.

While we are discussing this matter, a manager comes in, wearing a corporate Nazi like dark blue bell captain’s suit. He is completely shiny headed, and looks like an asshole. Hew come s to the boss, whispers something into his ear and hands me a bill for the tuna fish sandwich. He says that I didn’t pay for the sandwich yet.

I say, “Excuse me,” to the Chinese people sitting with me, and get up and walk to the door with the man. When we are out of reach of hearing, I grab him by his lapels and say in a harsh whisper, “You fucking idiot. If you think I’m going to pay for this sandwich after your hotel almost got me killed, then you’re out of your mind.” I rattled him to and fro like a doll. “Now get the fuck out of my face before I beat you to a pulp,” and I pushed him out the door with the bill in his hand. “Good bye.” And I shut the door and walked back to the people in the room.

Later that night. There is a party on the top floor held by an exclusive corporation. I want to meet the boss, so decide to go. I need to find clothes, so I go shopping with Chris Ingoldsby in all sorts of shops looking for a nice shirt and a tie. We try every store only to be disappointed. Finally we find a good shirt and tie, and I go to the dinner. I see John VanDursen, Danny, and Tom Shorthouse, sitting together at a faraway table. Tom is playing the trumpet drunkenly. I walk over and say hello, but he doesn’t recognize me, until I say “It’s me, Corbett.” And extend my hand. He shakes it meaninglessly, and says “Oh, yeah, good to see you to,” and return to his conversation. That kind of puts me out, so I walk back over to the group I’m with where I don’t know anyone at all and pick at the buffet. It is a very high class rich party, and I am at the very high class rich table, but don’t know a soul. I nod at people I don’t have the faintest idea who they are, and leave the party disgusted. When I get to the lobby, I have to take an elevator, and there are several of them, and I don’t really want to go through the same experience as the afternoon, and I wake up.

Posted to Dreams by corbett at 07:46 AM
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