Another Day at the Office

I leaned in the corner of the elevator watching the light blip through the dozens of floor numbers in the tower. What a way to spend a Sunday, I thought, Oh for the good old days of nine to five, Monday to Friday. The phone text had made it quite clear that my notes for the meeting tomorrow were to be finalized and copies made for all attendees, bound in the company folder and personalized.

Load of crap! I shifted my weight as the elevator stopped and the doors opened allowing the young woman to step in. Two uneasy, polite smiles as I stood straighter and she navigated to the opposite side of the cab. She glanced to see the ground floor button was pushed then watched the lights as I had been doing.

Taking bold action, I smiled and asked if she was stuck with working on the weekend too. She looked at me and just shook her head. Bold action was a flop. I tried again, explaining that it was my reason for coming in. She started to speak when the elevator jerked to a stop and the sound that came out was a surprised squeak.

We both stared at the light panel, the number eleven was blinking. She jabbed at the ground floor button, achieving nothing. I told her I thought it was stuck and opened the panel for the emergency phone. I was told to state my emergency by a recorded voice and to hang up.

"What now?" She sounded calm enough but her forehead was pinched.

"I don't know I've never had this happen before. I guess we wait."

She tried jabbing several more buttons then leaned against the cab wall, arms folded.

"Probably just a short somewhere. They'll send a specialist over and fix it."

"My phone doesn't work." She tapped it harder and frowned.

I tried to lighten the moment by saying it was akin to being on a desert island, no food. No water. No communication.

Her expression said my attempt was another flop. She put her phone away and dug a notebook out of her carry bag with the same result - no reception. Frustration showed and she grabbed the emergency phone and listened for a second then made her demand that she be notified immediately as to when she would get out of the elevator.

I told her that I didn't think anyone would be calling soon, after all it was Sunday. I suggested we just relax and give it some time. She propped herself in the corner, hands on the grip rails and blew out a resigned sigh.

"Just out of curiosity, where do you work in here?" I waved my hand to indicate the building.

"Look, I'm not about to swap personal stories, okay? I just want out of this thing."

"I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to be personal, just passing the time with small talk."

She closed her eyes and sagged slightly. The look was one of benign surrender.

"I'm sorry too. I'm just- just so- so-"

"It's okay. I understand completely. I feel the same way." I held out my hand. "I'm David and I work upstairs on the thirtieth floor."

"Well you are handling it a lot better than me." She took my hand and it lingered there while she spoke her name - Ellie. "I don't actually work here; I came by to meet my sister. She's up on eighteen."

I left my hand out until she let go. "So, your sister has to work weekends too." I chuckled.

"She's a decorator. She's working on this marathon project that she says will put her right up there with the top people in her field."

"Sounds exciting." I leaned on the wall beside her. "You helping?"

"She likes to pick my brain."

"So-o-o-o, Ellie, what do you do?" I turned to face her, still leaning on the wall.

The cab suddenly lurched and I fell against her in the corner. She gave a short scream and we just stayed still, faces very close. There was a motor noise from somewhere above and another short jerk.

Ellie grabbed my arms and I braced myself in front of her.

"I'm hoping that's the service people working on the problem." I said with uncertain confidence.

Our eyes locked and I imagined she saw the same as I . . . fear. I stood back a bit and took her arms as she had mine.

"It's going to be okay."

"Are you sure?"

"No. But it's no secret that guys are supposed to say stuff like that in these situations."

My brave words were cut off with another violent jerk of the cab and I pulled her to me, her face inches from mine, her eyes pleading for assurance. More motor noise and another shudder. I leaned hard against her and she pressed back. Any tighter against the side and we'd be wallpaper.

"Okay! Cut! Makeup and reset the cameras! Nice job, kids. Take ten and we'll shoot the next scene. Vera, I want you to make Ellie just a little more vulnerable. You know- when Tim begins to undo buttons and things. Okay, dear. Nice job though."

"Thanks, Harv."

I laughed as our director scurried away, waving arms and shouting orders.

"You want to get coffee or something when she's finished with your makeup? We can discuss those buttons and things in the next scene when Harvey's elevator plummets the last eleven floors."

"And our performance ends with a bang, you mean?"