I got on the elevator about an hour ago because I needed to buy a slice of pizza with two of the $14 I have left to last me until I get paid on Monday.*
I pushed the lobby button and the elevator moved down the line and stopped at floor eleven. The door opened, and I saw (and heard) a woman in a tank top and lycra bike shorts, popping and licking and smacking and honestly making out with her gum in the most disturbing way I have ever heard. It sounded like what happens when your stick face into a bowl of nutella, sneeze, and then attempt to swallow. Schlurrsmickityschmackstick. Awful.
Then something worse happened. The elevator stopped to board other passengers 3 times . For those of you with no math skills, that's a stop every 3.66 floors. If the elevator had started its journey on floor 26, it would have stopped over 7 times! Do you know how long a stop takes??
An average of twenty seconds per stop. That means, for those of you counting, that I had to spend at least sixty seconds riding the elevator with this masticating troll** who had, in addition to poor manners, no idea how to dress, and in my opinion, the worst hairdresser in the entire world.
When the elevator stopped I could not refrain from leaping out of it into the lobby and sprinting for the door. Please pray (for me) that the elevator troll was just visiting my building. I was in hell. If I have to ride the elevator with that sound again I might just sink to the floor and start weeping.
* I recently attained a state of near total destitution by turning down summer teaching gigs in favor of working on my dissertation. I think we all know how that's going. (hint: it's not).
** a troll, yes, but she probably has more money than I do this week. Actually, I cannot afford gum, so there is no "probably" about it.