We Met In An Elevator

We met in an elevator.

I was going in for my interview at the company, fully dressed in an uncomfortable suit and these pointy shoes (I hate pointy shoes), waiting by the elevator bank. Our company is in one of those giant office towers downtown, which at first made me feel kind of important, but it gets old fast. There are so many people who come in to work at the same time that it’s hard to get an elevator. Plus, they’re crammed full of people and it’s kind of like standing in a really busy bus or a subway, but without luxuries like windows, or air.

So I waited, and waited, and waited.

Finally, I was the only one waiting for the elevator. Finally, one arrived and it was packed full of people in suits rushing out into the lobby. They looked like fish being let from a little plastic baggie back into a stream.

The elevator was completely empty then, except for one person. And there he was, standing in the back, all alone. It was just me and him. Isn’t that weird, at that time of the morning? It’s like it was fate.

I went immediately red just looking at him and his thick hair and his perfect blue shirt that matched his blue eyes.

And then he walked from the back of the elevator right up to me. He was standing right next to me, and his eyebrows were knit together like he was going to say something important, or maybe he was going to kiss me.

He leaned in close, so close that I’ve never since been that close to him. I could smell his smell. He smelled like fresh bread. It was uncanny. He smelled exactly like fresh bread, warm out of the oven, and it made my mouth water a little bit.

He was standing maybe an inch from me, his arm was now grazing mine, and he leaned over to me and said….

“You forgot to push a button.”

“Oh,” I said, coming up for air.

“Which floor?”

“Um, 12, I think.”

“Excellent, that’s where I’m going too,” he said. (Of course he said that. He was going up to his office. To interview ME. And I’d just made the most stellar impression by not knowing how an elevator works.)

And then he pressed the 12 button right at the same time as I pressed it, and the elevator door closed, and there was a shock of electricity that went right through our fingertips. I know he could feel it because he said, “Wow, sorry! Must be from the dry air, right?”

“Mmm,” I said.

And that was it. I walked in to the office, he walked in, and suddenly he wasn’t the handsome tall guy in the elevator, but my potential boss. All potential romance CRUSHED. Except of course there was no romance, because he had a girlfriend. He always has a girlfriend.

…aaand that’s what I’ve been hung up on for two years now. TWO YEARS. I’m twenty-seven years old. It’s time for me to get a life, or at the very least a new job.

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