It's shocking how many people do, at our library. We manually shut it down (lock all the floors and turn off the light) at close. While it can still be called to a floor, it will not move. And since the floor is locked, "door open" will not then open the door again.
Never get in a dark elevator. If you're lucky, you'll be able to call the fire department after the doors close, and if you're not lucky, the elevator acts as a Faraday cage and your phone won't work. And the Emergency alarm only matters if there are people in the building to hear it.
So what happened here? One of those social psychological tests. Will somebody move the chair and get in the elevator and trap themselves? Or will people take the stairs?
The elevator, while balancing its checkbook, finds it can't afford today's electricity. Naturally, the elevator is bumbed. The chair had gone downstairs for a soda break and upon return finds its ride shut down. The chair would take the stairs but it's old and suffers from arthritis. So, now the chair is trying to convince the elevator to use its American Express card for today's electricity. But the elevator will not be coaxed into charging it because it's afraid it may never get out of credit card debt.
Arrangement in Grey and Black, No.2: Portrait of The 17th’s Resident Cannibalwraith. The painting survived. The painter is survived by his favourite chair, still standing.
When banished during "Musical Chairs," chairs are taken here -- to Beigeworld. The elevator to damnation awaits; an eternity stacked with every unwanted chair ever.
27 comments:
Power outage. The chair was staged to prevent people from entering.
Don't go in the elevator.
The bath tub full of Scotch was a great idea. The floating candles started that way, too. Then the slithery one slipped.
A chair is holding the elevator for somebody. (Or some thing. Maybe an ottoman or side table?)
I was in love!
Every day –glimpse of her straight back, slender legs
One night, elevator malfunctioned.
No humans! I scooted, jammed it.
Reflection?!
heartbroken
Do not go gentle into that dark space,
Authors should rave and pitch at yawning stares;
Plot, plot against the fading of the pace.
Never get in a dark elevator.
It's shocking how many people do, at our library. We manually shut it down (lock all the floors and turn off the light) at close. While it can still be called to a floor, it will not move. And since the floor is locked, "door open" will not then open the door again.
Never get in a dark elevator. If you're lucky, you'll be able to call the fire department after the doors close, and if you're not lucky, the elevator acts as a Faraday cage and your phone won't work. And the Emergency alarm only matters if there are people in the building to hear it.
So what happened here? One of those social psychological tests. Will somebody move the chair and get in the elevator and trap themselves? Or will people take the stairs?
The elevator, while balancing its checkbook, finds it can't afford today's electricity. Naturally, the elevator is bumbed. The chair had gone downstairs for a soda break and upon return finds its ride shut down. The chair would take the stairs but it's old and suffers from arthritis. So, now the chair is trying to convince the elevator to use its American Express card for today's electricity. But the elevator will not be coaxed into charging it because it's afraid it may never get out of credit card debt.
The chair is excited.
He's finally going to feel what it's like to ride in an elevator.
Then the lights go out.
A trap laid for the elusive, camera-shy New Yawk Shark.
Brenda
Arrangement in Grey and Black, No.2: Portrait of The 17th’s Resident Cannibalwraith. The painting survived. The painter is survived by his favourite chair, still standing.
The voyeur suite. Feast your eyes on the happenings inside, one seat only, one night only. Enjoy.
Somebody misbehaved in the elevator and had to have a time out.
Impromptu elevator pitch.
Bet you were wondering why my cohort pushed all of those buttons.
Heh, heh. The perfect trap to get the shark to listen to my elevator pitch. Come on, Snookums. Come on in.
Grub Hub driver Pierre had one 17th-floor delivery. Jammed the elevator for his escape.
Chianti and French bread -- no meat -- to 1705. Dr. Hannibal Lecter.
Learning the Grand Hyatt was rawther dull following ThrillerFest, Eloise left The Plaza Hotel and skibbled on over to see how she could help.
“Elevator mural's nearly painted. Just need more water. Seventeenth floor.” Static. Stupid radio. “Water! Seventeenth floor!”
Crackle “–want”–crackle–“open”–crackle–“door?”
“No, wait--”
"Wait, I forgot my tickets."
"But the elevator doors--"
"We need those tickets. Remember what Beth said?"
"Standing room only?"
"Wait, I got an idea."
I hear Broadway went dark last night. Props crews were bored, so they staged inprov of their fav film/TV scenes. This from GRRM--
"HODOR!"
When banished during "Musical Chairs," chairs are taken here -- to Beigeworld. The elevator to damnation awaits; an eternity stacked with every unwanted chair ever.
*IMPROV
[ProTip: do not type comments while cat is draped across arms]
The fabulous agent had too much fun at Thrillerfest. Enough so that Sunday’s post wasn’t. A chair by the elevator gave her an idea.
Well, it makes sense to me. Them buildings are so tall, you let the elevator get away, you may never see it again. Ever.
Our eyes met across the bar.
No words exchanged, until...
Sliding by, she "dropped" her key. I retrieved it.
"I'll see you soon, mon chair."
Damned Query Shark and her partying writer conventioneers, let's see how loud they feel after they walk up seventeen floors!
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