Stuck in an Elevator

I was stuck in an elevator this morning. I’ve never been stuck in an elevator before. I didn’t like being stuck in an elevator. I hope to never experience being stuck in an elevator again.

My daughter and I were cleaning the common area of a 28 unit condo building that we have been cleaning every other week for over a year. I was finishing up on the second floor while my daughter went down to the lobby. She took the cleaning equipment with her. Apparently my new Anti-Bac Norwex cleaning cloth (I’m going green-er-ish) accidentally fell and stayed on the threshold of the elevator tract in the lobby.

When I arrived in the lobby the elevator door only opened about 2 inches…a little shy of what I was able to squeeze through. I saw the cloth and picked it up, but that made no difference. After pressing the Door Open button, the Door Close button, and the buttons for the 1-4 floors, I did the only thing I knew to do. I yelled (ever so quietly) through the crack of the door for my daughter. I asked her to hit the Up button which she did, but to no avail. It wasn’t really her fault, but that didn’t stop me from sarcastically thanking her for getting me stuck in the elevator! Not one of my better parenting moments, I do admit.

When it became apparent that I was indeed stuck in the elevator, I slid down the wall and hit the Help button. I already knew there was such a button, because I accidentally hit it one day when I was cleaning…at another condo. I am thankful for the Help button.

Technology is an amazing thing. The woman who answered my call for help knew where I was, in what building, which is a good thing really, because I didn’t know the address or the name of the street. I simply know how to get there. She assured me she would place a call and help would quickly be on the way.

Before I settled in to amuse myself by entertaining my friends and husband via text of my predicament, I called my daughter over to the crack in the doors of the elevator who was holding me hostage, and ordered her to “keep cleaning”. I didn’t have time to be stuck in an elevator, not before and definitely not now, when I could and should be cleaning. Time is money!

After about 8 minutes or so, I began to smell something that resembled smoke…something smelled like it was burning. My ticked-off, albeit calm feeling, left me in a hurry. I was on the brink of panic. I really didn’t want to be stuck in an elevator that was on fire. My life didn’t flash before my eyes, however, I did envision what it would be like to die in a fire. Forget the fact that the smoke would get me first. It wasn’t a pretty picture.

I pushed the Help button again. After I told the woman that I was smelling a smoke-like odor, she once again assured me that the company had been notified and help was on the way. I said, “That’s great, and I am very glad to hear that. But I smell smoke. Is there reason to be alarmed?” As I mentioned before, I have never been stuck in an elevator before so I wasn’t familiar with elevator-stuckness protocol.

Within 5 minutes of the second call, while I busied myself with texting so I could keep my mind off the smell of smoke and the thought of death in a fiery elevator, help arrived and I was once again free.

I tried to finish the job, and even made a few feeble attempts to do so, but we hurriedly left after thanking the man who rescued me.

I must admit, that experience didn’t really have a profound affect on me, nor do I have a greater appreciation for life. But I am ever so happy to be out of the elevator!

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