I strut right up to the doors of the elevator with briskness and purpose. There is already a group of people standing before the closed doors. Some are looking up at the floor indicator, which is still a long way above our first floor. Some are staring into the middle distance. All are silent.
Why are they just standing there doing nothing? They might have all day to wait but I’m trying to get somewhere. I can’t just stand here.
So without breaking my stride, I march up to the lit “up” button and authoritatively hit it several times. STAB STAB STAB STAB STAB, like a serial killer. I can’t believe none of these people have thought to do that. Do they think the elevator can read their minds?
I look around at everyone else, as if to say, “This is how it’s done, people. You can’t just wait passively to get where you’re going. You need to take charge.” A few people give me quizzical looks, like I have three heads. I guess they’ve just never seen a real leader before.
The elevator moves through molasses. Four … three … two … and holds there. I sigh heavily.
Some guy marches up to the elevator. He punches the lit “up” button STAB STAB STAB. He looks around in exasperation at us.
What is his problem? Does he think none of us thought to hit the button?
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