The lift is stuck...
...And I can tell that the person in there is panicking because I can hear the alarm bell. It started off as a quick ring, was then being held down for slightly longer, and now it's ringing for at least 20 seconds at a time!
That's what I would be like.
By the time I was rescued, if still conscious, I would be in floods of tears and would probably have wet myself...
I'm very afraid of getting stuck in a lift.
I think I suffer from mild claustrophobia - but it turns extreme pretty quickly!
posted by Amy Knight @ 11:31
2 Comments
2 Comments:
"By the time I was rescued, if still conscious, I would be in floods of tears and would probably have wet myself..."
Rubbish.
In my (over fertile) imagination you would have:
1) Removed the access panel in the ceiling of the lift, using your nail file as an improvised screwdriver.
2) Shinned up the greasy lift cable to your floor.
3) Forced the doors open on the landing and then forced them back closed again to prevent senior managers and other intellectually challenged types from falling down the liftshaft.
4) Used paper towels and hand wash to get the grease stains off your clothes.
5) Been whining about how boring the entire experience was within 15 mins of returning to your desk (as always nobody had noticed you were gone).
C'mon Amy, it's important to stay in character!
;-)
- roGER
Possibly..
Unfortunately, I would fail at stage one because I can’t abide a nail file. The mere thought of having such a thing in my possession makes my teeth feel funny.
However, supposing that a small nail file had recently fallen out of a manicured lady’s (or man’s) handbag, onto the floor of the lift in which I was stuck, I guess I would be capable of removing the screws.
Shimmying up the lift shaft may also be possible, unless of course I got stuck on the ground floor (which wouldn’t surprise me). Using the lift’s pulley wire as a climbing rope for 12 floors may be slightly too much for me as I am somewhat out of practice.
After forcing the doors open I may be rather inclined to leave them open. I may warn people on their way out to avoid the void (as it were) but then again I might selectively choose not to.
The idea of using paper towels and hand wash to clean the grease from my clothes I like very much. Hand wash is particularly good on grease. Although if they were too badly soiled or sadly ripped, I could always wear the logo emblazoned t’shirt and tracksuit bottoms that have been coincidentally abandoned in the post room. The t’shirt also carries an image of the Union Jack so I could be both patriotic and celebrate the company’s corporate identity at the same time.
Finally, rather than whinging about the boring experience, I would probably be inclined to exaggerate the whole thing (Indiana Jones style), add in important details of the seven other people who were there that I had fireman-carried to safety, and the fact that, once changed into my new attire I had gone back and fixed the fault to ensure no-one else had to experience the horror that I had since managed to escape.
The police and ambulance crew said I was lucky to be alive don’t you know... I’m even being nominated for the Receptionist Extreme Bravery awards for 2006.
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home