Why did you have to hold the doors? The elevator is full, and you’re fat. You cannot fit. This isn’t the chopper off the embassy roof – there’s clearly another elevator coming.
Ugh. It’s so hot in here. I can’t even move. And someone is playing “Fergalicious” on their iPod.
2nd floor. Someone wants to get on? Are you kidding me? Sure, come on in, there’s plenty of room. Just wedge yourself in. At this rate, you’ll need the Jaws of Life to extract me from this elevator.
Someone went WAY too heavy on the cologne this morning.
Oh, shit, that’s me.
3rd floor. One floor? ONE FLOOR? You took the elevator one floor? Are you fucking kidding me? You’re clearly physically capable of climbing the stairs. I know not all handicaps are visible, but there are three fucking stairwells in this building. And it’s ONE FLIGHT OF STAIRS!
Wait a minute. “Fergalicious” is coming out of the headphones of THE GUY NEXT TO ME. Major elevator foul. Does he realize what a fool of himself he’s making?
4th floor. Adios, Fergie man. If it wasn’t for that lazy asshole on the 2nd floor, I’d be at my desk by now.
Finally, some elbow room. Why don’t we have those cool screens in our elevators like our sister agency? Probably the same reason we only have two working elevators in our building right now: we’re the ugly stepsister.
5th floor. Please, doors, open! OPEN! Ahh, that blast of cool air.
Great, now I’m sweaty. And I feel gross. And I have a full day of work ahead of me. And to top it all off, “Fergalicious” is stuck in my head.