i hate elevators.

i didn’t used to hate elevators. i used to enjoy them a lot. when i was growing up in los angeles, one of my favorite past times was going to the bonaventure hotel, which, at the time, was the tallest building downtown, and we’d ride up and down the elevator, gleeful at the speed of the ascent and the glass walls, allowing us to peer down at the city around us. we were roald dahl’s charlie, with los angeles laid out in front of us, twinkling in all of its glitz and smog. when the elevator was about to go down, my friends and i would wait in anticipation and right as the elevator began its descent, we’d all jump simultaneously, catching more air as the elevator helped lift us higher. it felt like we were defying gravity... if we had capes, we’d just as easily bash right through the ceiling and lift off into the sky.

i used to have this fascination with taking elevators to work. i would watch movies about new york and it seemed that most office movies based in new york have that one scene where our hero rushes into the lobby of their building and just barely catches the lift. everybody stands there, all dressed up in their suits and holding their briefcases, staring up at the numbers above the door. it seemed to me that they usually look pretty awake. as it turns out, the movies have lied to me.

these days i hate elevators because we have them at work now. our offices moved to these fancy new digs in san francisco’s presidio, and now there’s elevators frigging everywhere. they’re slow as hell and they’re not made of glass. for the most part, we can choose stairs instead of elevators, but the only part where we’re forced to take the elevator is from the parking garage up to the main lobby. this means that every day begins with having to be stuck in a tiny metal box, with a bunch of other groggy people. sometimes attempts are made at small talk or a few grunts of greeting, but for the most part, nobody wants make eye contact, much less talk to anyone else. the caffeine hasn’t quite kicked in yet and the anticipation of the day is too dreadful. to top it all off, it’s exacerbated by the unbearably slow ascent... it’s like life stops right before i get to my desk.

it’s a reverse tardis.

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