Four Floors. One Fragile Man

A brief study on why I don’t like elevators or is it a me issue?

I am a whore for technological inventions. You could have seen me celebrate the discovery of fire with early humans if you could. After a hot, punishing, sun-drenched day and what felt like an eternity to walk in my campus, I finally reach my hostel, calling it a day.

The Diet Coke in my hand is sweating at a pace rivaling my own. My t-shirt is drenched sticking to my body like some clingy mf. My patience is on life support.

My hostel has two elevators, but as utopian and civilized it sounds, I hope your trust issues are better than that.

In reality? One is always under repair. Naturally your first question would be, what color is my hostel, right? Its pale green but coming back to the second most probable question, which one of those two?

They are smart enough to rotate the suffering. A system designed not to fix the problem- but to distribute despair equally.

I stand there waiting. The arrow on the screen lights up. Finally hope glistening in my eyes, or is it the sweat, I don’t care. It begins descending from the sixth floor.

I take another sip. Sweat drips from my forehead into my eyes. I attempt to wipe it with the same hand holding my phone- a mistake. The sweat registers as a touch.

The song changes. Ugh.

I was waiting for the best part, now I’m too lazy to play it again. Fine, this song ain’t half bad either.

Surely by now the elevator must be close.

I look back to the display board and to my utter disbelief,

Fourth floor?? WHY HOW WHAT

Who is on the fourth floor and what are they doing? What negotiating treaties am I missing out on? What tea party is being hosted that these guys are holding up the elevator open.

I’m tempted to consider my options. Stairs. Back to the basics.

Maybe stairway to heaven wont be a bad idea, there sure is no song on an elevator so stairs get the point here.

Four floors. Good for steps. Good for discipline. Good for character development.

But also, its more unnecessary suffering in a world where vertical transport exists. Wasn’t tech made to make my life easier (lazier). Have I told you I love technological inventions.

So, I wait. No, you can’t call me lazy, I’m just strategic.

Cause what if I wait one more minute?

What if the doors open right now?

What if I get to simply step in, press a button, and let machinery carry the burden?

The arrow flickers. third floor?? HUHHHH? What is it with the pace today.

I feel something shift inside me. Not rage. Not sadness.

Something far more fragile and no it’s not my ego, but the realization that my patience is entirely dependent on stainless steel and cables. And I do not like how that sounds.

Third floor, Second, first… GROUND.

The doors open finally. VICTORY. After the stupid crowd has left the elevator finally in peace, I step in.

Walking as if I outlasted adversity. As soon as the door were about to shut, I see a silhouette rush in and enter the lift.

He looks at me, he nods, I nod. Okay the treaty of acknowledging existences is signed.

I swear to God if he had pressed the first floor, I would have made sure he skips all floors and goes the highest he can up there (no threat OBVIOUSLY). I press my floor, fourth AGAIN after he pressed it too. (trust is not a renewable resource). The door closes and the box finally move. Phew.

I move back to my corner, the one far behind. Pretending to be busy by scrolling through her chats- why has she seen zoned me for the last 12 hours, I just sent her a brain rot meme from my feed :(

Three seconds in and the lift stops, like a bump or jerk and instead of the possibility of it being my last ride, I was more intimidated of losing my nonchalance in front of him.

My brain made scenarios where which topic would be the best to fill in the one-foot gap we have if we are stuck in the lift. I just glance at him, I saw him looking at me already.

Did I yap my intrusive thoughts out loud?? I glanced back at him. He avoids eye contact, pretends as if nothing happened. Umm sure boss, if that makes you feel you didn’t lose your aura points. I won the nonchalance war (YESS echoed in my brain), oh wait I think this one I said a bit too loud for him to hear.

I pretend nothing happened and proceed to continue to scroll another meme to send to her, maybe third time’s a charm.

The elevator resumes and civilization is restored.

I realized that my entire emotional stability was hanging on a couple of metal cables. Wow, that’s some crazy existential crisis thought to have at 2.34pm. As I stared into a corner of the space, dissociated and after a time which in my head felt like forever, the elevator finally halts.

The doors open on my floor.

I step out before him; he let me go before him. Was it to acknowledge the law of the jungle, did he accept his defeat. Oh, wait my bad, he lives on the fifth floor. Wow nice.

As I left, there was no goodbye.

No acknowledgment of shared near-trauma.

Just two men pretending a metal box didn’t momentarily humble them.

As I walk to my room, I take the last sip of my Diet Coke, changing it back to my favorite song which I missed out on earlier.

The Coke was ummm,

Flat. Warm. Disappointing.

Just like my faith in infrastructure. Have I told you that I hate technological inventions.

And I make a mental note:

Tomorrow,

I’m taking the stairs.

(Probably)