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 itâ€™s eventual prize (me). Then all of a sudden as the door opens â€“ and I go to make the first of my (maybe) two and a half steps to enter â€“ Mister Dude goes all the way around me and cuts into the car.
Everything became a bit blurry at that point â€“ 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 â€“ he first hits floor 16 (sixteen) and then he flippinâ€™ pressed â€œClose Door.â€
I mean . . . â€œClose Door?!?!?!â€ He totally had no choice but to see me . . . Itâ€™s not like he hadnâ€™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 â€œI have soup that is better than your soup â€“ probably â€“ if you can even afford soup â€“ you pitiful little person who doesnâ€™t deserve in any way to be riding in my elevatorâ€ back.
So official today â€“ the new protocol for if this situation ever happens again â€“ is to immediately press (and probably hold) the â€œOpen Doorâ€ button until the other person twitches a bit. If that isnâ€™t enough . . . then measures will be taken to ship Special Agent Socks (Irving to you) in and have him pull some of his â€œmy tongue in you soupâ€ maneuvers.