Mister Guy On The Elevator

I was standing in front of an elevator day minding my bees-nass the other day. All kinds of anticipation growing as I watched the floor numbers ticking down down down as the elevator raced towards it’s eventual prize (me). Then all of a sudden as the door opens – and I go to make the first of my (maybe) two and a half steps to enter – Mister Dude goes all the way around me and cuts into the car.

Everything became a bit blurry at that point – because I almost stepped on the guy trying to get in . . . and then I was snapped back to clarity with a speedy quickness as he pulled the biggest moop move that I have seen in at least a hot minute or two.

As I stepped into the threshold – he first hits floor 16 (sixteen) and then he flippin’ pressed “Close Door.”

I mean . . . “Close Door?!?!?!” He totally had no choice but to see me . . . It’s not like he hadn’t just pushed past me to get into the elevator. The worst part was that there was one other person coming in the elevator . . . who was forced into a cockeyed landing when the door nailed her side as she tried to scoot past.

And all I could do was stare daggers at his “I have soup that is better than your soup – probably – if you can even afford soup – you pitiful little person who doesn’t deserve in any way to be riding in my elevator” back.

So official today – the new protocol for if this situation ever happens again – is to immediately press (and probably hold) the “Open Door” button until the other person twitches a bit. If that isn’t enough . . . then measures will be taken to ship Special Agent Socks (Irving to you) in and have him pull some of his “my tongue in you soup” maneuvers.