MICROASSIGNMENT 02: Absurdity
When the elevator arrives sometimes it takes a while to open its door and let me in. Sometimes, before that can even occur, the elevator won't arrive, or worse, the button doesn't call it to my floor. I only live on the fifth floor of an apartment building, with my car on the first and the street on the second. It doesn't take much more time for me to descend the stairs as the elevator that sometimes doesn't come takes its sweet time moving between floors. Yet I still find myself staring at the unpolished and filthy metal door for it to finally let me inside the twice as dirty elevator interior.
It's so slow that I do take the stairs after waiting half a minute, but on days it opens itself to me, I step inside and can press the number of the floor I wish to go to. From here the elevator does one of two things. It either shuts its door and takes me to where I want to go, or it shuts its doors with an uneasy slowness as if taking its time only after staying open entirely too long, unbothered. Immediately after it shuts, it opens with such swiftness and I leave with the same energy, now too afraid the elevator will trap me inside.
When the elevator does agree with me and begins its vertical movement, I sometimes find myself in the predicament of waiting for the doors to release me. The longer I stand there in the silent box and staring at the shoe buffed door, the more unrest builds inside me so I'm running out of the elevator the moment it opens. The uncertainty of the elevator, its behavior, reliability, cleanliness, and time management and effectiveness, continues to have a wide range from okay to abysmal.
I still ride it.
Somehow my disdain for activity and the stairs has me willing to get stuck in an old, crusty elevator two years overdue for inspection. If I were sane, I would not risk that elevator and its creaking and rumbling container. I would not let myself stare blankly at the door while it refuses to open spiraling with thoughts of survival if they were to not open ever. Who would I call first? Could I actually press the help buttons in the elevator? Do they work? Is this really worth it so I don't have to climb stairs? Yes, somedays. Most days, maybe. Even after believing I would get stuck and being wrong, I still tell my mom "I haven't gotten stuck yet," and it's the yet that I'm waiting for.












