Elevator Love

It’s a happy Wednesday today. In KSA, Wednesday is the last workday with Thursday and Friday as our weekends. And to begin this supposedly fantastic day, I got myself stuck in an elevator.

I don’t usually pass by Apartment #2 from work when I’m coming from Apartment #1, but I had to bring my groceries today. I only live in the 2nd floor but had to use the lift because of said groceries. Getting stuck wasn’t so bad since I was alone and didn’t have to suffer the company of some stranger, but I started feeling claustrophobic after five minutes. Security came promptly but it was a petite girl on the 3rd floor who rescued me. She pressed the button and – voila! – my lift rose and opened. Of course, we both took the stairs after that.

Like all unusual experiences, I learned a lesson from this: Not to leave my handbag in the car even if I only have to pop inside the apartment for two minutes. (Because my Kindle is in that bag. So is my cellphone so I can call the office to tell them I’ll be late, and that it’s a real excuse this time. Who knows when I’ll get stuck in an elevator again and how long will I have to stay there before help comes?)


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