My office building’s elevators are the oldest in the city. They are creaky, jerky, slow and sometimes possessed. Today I wanted to go get a milkshake with Shayna, Maria and Vim. We got in the elevator and after a few minutes realized that we hadn’t gone anywhere. I pressed the “door open” button. Nothing happened. Suddenly our worst elevator fear was coming true.

Vim called for help on the hopelessly old-looking emergency phone with the frayed cord. Luckily someone answered. The person sounded bored, took our names, and called our office to tell our boss Jason that his employees were stuck.

Upon learning that we were stuck, Jason herded the other five staff members out into the hallway, where they proceeded to taunt us and laugh at us through the elevator doors while we waited for maintenance to arrive. Meanwhile we yelled for Keanu Reeves to save us, sang “I’ll send an SOS to the world” and sat on the elevator floor mulling our fate. Fifteen minutes later, two amused maintenance people pried the doors open. One of them joked to Jason that he should dock our pay since we’d been out of the office so long.

“How often do people get stuck like that?” Maria asked the maintenance people. One of them shook his head. “You’re part of the club now,” he said.

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