Getting diagnosed with osteo-arthritis means I’m one of those “special” people with magical ID cards that allows me access to elevators reserved for faculty and staff on campus at AUC. (be my friend – there are perks) Brice has taken to asking me to activate the elevator for him before we part and he ascends three flights of stairs to his workplace. I can’t blame him – stairs are jerks.
Some thoughts on elevators:
– they are one of the warmest spots on campus. Sometimes I stay in them longer than necessary just to warm up from the A/C. Don’t tell anyone.
– men don’t like to ride with me. If the elevator stops at a floor while I’m in it, and a man is waiting for a ride, he’ll usually “wave me on” and take the next one. Similarly, If I am waiting for the elevator to arrive and then board, they will choose to stay and wait for the elevator to come back empty.
– I got yelled at in Arabic for jumping aboard an elevator whose external door was clearly malfunctioning. I wanted to explain to him that just the door was broken, not the elevator itself. Silly me not being terrified of the broken elevator door like everyone else.
– It is awkward to stand in an elevator with a group of women who are speaking a language you do not. Where do you look? The floor? The walls? Do you pretend you speak Arabic, and laugh along with them? Do you pretend you are deaf? Tough call.