BRIDGET'S BLOG: How my elevator experience goes down

BRIDGET'S BLOG: How my elevator experience goes down

BRIDGET'S BLOG: How my elevator experience goes down

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by Bridget Smith / Kens5.com

kens5.com

Posted on July 20, 2010 at 4:51 PM

Updated Wednesday, Aug 4 at 1:30 PM

I am an expert elevator rider.

Calling myself an "expert elevator rider" does not mean I boast a particular talent. It just means I do it often.

So often, I could get on an elevator with my eyes closed and know exactly where I'm going. It's a routine to which I've grown accustomed courtesy of the building I reside in almost twice a week.

Before events downtown, or a night out with friends the place has proved convenient. Clothes, quick snacks, those specific purple shoes? Everything's there.

Call it salvation for a working girl too lazy to drive home.

What has been lost on the whole experience however, is the opportunity to really get to know people. Seeing people in the building is not the problem.

"Knowing" them? Is.

Sometimes I see residents who live in the building talking and laughing. It's that hard to ignore familiarity that comes with being a good neighbor. 

Sometime,  I see flyers near the mailboxes detailing the next time residents will get together to chat and enjoy Starbucks coffee.

I wonder what it's like to be a part of "the group."

I'd feel weird showing up to one of these gatherings since I'm in the building so infrequently. It seems I've reduced my residency status to just a girl who comes and goes.

Make that a crazy girl who comes and goes....by all appearances, anyway. Most mornings when I step on the elevator, I see doctors in their lab coats, or overhear a lawyer on the phone.

Occasionally there's the cheerful retired couple who's stepped on after an early morning walk with their dog.

For the most part, the majority of people appear to be busy professionals headed someplace quickly. Everyone's dressed the part:

sharp suits, medical attire,  businessmen scrolling through their I-phones.

And then, there's me. No one knows what to think. And, it's obvious.

Most mornings, I hop on the elevator with rollers in my hair, impossibly high heels,  mascara and a handful of prep for interviews in hand.

It's clear I don't work in accounts payable at a bank.

No briefcase, no stethoscope, no day planner, no coffee.

People are friendly. Confused, but friendly.

They smile, and yes, I sometimes get the once over. I get it.

It doesn't  make sense that anyone headed out at 7am, looking the way I look,  is headed to "work."

On those long silences between floors, I get the urge to explain.

But, what would be more awkward? Consider that  en route to the show:

I'm never fully ready, never fully done, not close to being together.

That portion of my pre-show life is completed (even that is debatable)  once I get to work..

On every elevator ride, I think about those folks who're headed to work and who have never seen the show.

 In the 9:00 hour,  they are likely in full work mode. They don't know what I do, or why I look crazy.

Yesterday morning when one gentleman exited the elevator with a huge smile on his face and said, " Have a Great Day!" Coincidence? Or maybe not.

I can only hope, that even in just one person's eyes,  the "strange girl" is redeemed.

That maybe........ just once, JUST ONCE around nine, he's sat at his desk and caught that zany entertainment show online.

 

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