The company’s baseline read ‘love your job’. It should have read ‘hate the stairs’. For every employee – without exception – opted for the elevator to get from the ground level to the first floor.
At first Lynn found it merely peculiar – and a tad lazy. But as the weeks and months went on, annoyance became her prime emotion.
Part of the predicament was that the building housed about 500 people and had only two elevators. Especially during morning rush hour, round the nine o’ clock mark, that posed a bit of a problem. If the people that worked on the first floor just took the stairs, most of the queuing could be eliminated. But they didn’t, so the problem persisted.
On June 24th Lynn had just about had enough of it. She got into the elevator with a twentysomething guy that pressed the first floor button and all of a sudden the frustration came pouring out.
“You’re all just a bunch of lazy fucks aren’t you?” she said.
The boy was flabbergasted.
“Ever contemplated taking the stairs?”
The boy pretended not to listen. He tried phubbing Lynn but that didn’t work.
“I mean, what’s wrong with you? You aren’t even thirty by the looks of it. You should be able to survive a couple of stairs.”
The doors closed and the elevator began its ascent. Lynn kept on ranting. The boy sought out a corner of the elevator to hide from the onslaught of reproaches. The trip to the first floor – a breeze usually – at present seemed to last for hours.
When the doors opened again, the boy couldn’t flee from the elevator soon enough.
“You just think about that!” Lynn angrily shouted at him as she pressed the second floor button.
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