It’s not easy getting to my “unit” at the condos I live in. I park, take an elevator up 5 floors, walk down a hallway and up one more floor, either by stairs or another elevator. Pretty convoluted, but ok by me. A burglar would have a hell of a time negotiating this if he decided to rob my “unit” and make a speedy get away. That was actually a big selling point for me - pretty good security. Living between Oakland and Richmond, stuff like this is important.
But sometimes, the elevator is a place I don’t want to be.
Sorry for the ...uncomfortable subject matter, but there have been occasions when I get in the elevator and quickly realize someone has loaded the damn thing up with.....farts. Whatever...I can deal with that. What I can’t deal with is once I enter and decide to tough it out and ride it down to the parking garage, a very strong ...fear enters into my brain; what the hell am I gonna do if there is someone in the garage waiting to board as I get off, and thinks that I was the one that loaded the elevator up with...fart?
The other night I happened upon that particular scenario and decided to bail out of the elevator before I got to my destination. Couldn’t deal with it, so I took the stairs the rest of the way. I think I made the right decision, but I’m troubled that this troubles me, but not quite as much as I’m troubled that I even posted this, but we’re all adults and I hope we can handle the truth. Farts are funny. Farts are global.
And it's a good thing to take the stairs every now and then.
2 comments:
Hee! The strange thing is that I can totally understand that fear...
Sometimes I fart loudly and explosively while jogging (to help propel myself forward), and I'm always afraid some other jogger or someone in nearby house with an open window or a passing driver will hear me.
That sounds exhilarating! I must jog one of these days!
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