Sunday, July 9, 2017
My Elevated Life
When you live on the 26th floor, your time on the elevator adds way up. One perk is that the
people-watching can get interesting.
Since my building welcomes residents of all colors, ethnicities, sexual preferences and attire, the elevator becomes "crossroad of a million lives."
My history with elevators has had its ups and downs. (Groan.) At my office building on LaSalle, I was stuck between floors with too many others one hot day. The rescue was pretty quick . . . the recovery not so fast.
Bill and I were stuck in our apartment building elevator. He had his comic books. I had nothing but my creeping hysteria. After that, I vowed to live no higher than I could climb. Of course, that wore off over time.
My favorite elevator experiences were when I worked at the Monadnock Building. They had operators! Friendly men who remembered you and your floor. I'd like to think they were all union guys who made good pay.
Elevator etiquette has changed dramatically. Before cell phones, my elevator mates were happy to give me a smile and maybe a few words. Now, except for us oldsters, they stare at their devices, barely noticing when we reach the lobby.
Final thought: Thanks to you, Mr. Otis, I have my fabulous sky-high view. Worth the ride every time.