Sometimes it seems like your life can turn on the simplest of occasions. A missed train here, a red light there… the butterfly effect teaches us that even the smallest actions can have the greatest of repercussions. Let us examine one such potential occasion; was this to be the dawn of a new moon or merely the eclipse of a superfluous twilight?
Twas the middle of a leisurely Tuesday afternoon. Trying to come up with ideas for my term paper, I was flicking between the pages of an open book in the sanctum that was the Koerner library basement. As usual, my attempts to amass the knowledge required for this literary jaunt were being sidetracked by the tantalizing titles presented by the other tomes in surrounding shelves.
“Enough!” thought I – it was time for me to make my exit and recoup my losses. Opportunity was ringing for far greater endeavours (such as dinner). I briskly stacked my selections and sauntered out of the section into the area near the stairs. Two options presented themselves. Do I dare traipse up the (assuredly) treacherous steps two whole floors? Or, would the shiny and sleek metallic doors of the elevator be my gateway to a speedy ascension?
Dear reader, what would you do in my situation? I think the choice was obvious.
I scampered towards the lift, pressing the fateful button that would lead to my delay. Ah! The sound of blissful ignorance rang over me in the guise of well oiled machinery as the doors opened. I entered confidently, swiftly selecting my next station with a slender and tender touch. A creak in the armour of today’s well-maintained miracle machines resounded among the chamber as the doors closed; the elevator did not move. It was stuck!*
A pregnant pause soon followed. Then, a strange feeling and thought soon arose in the depths of my mind. I think it ran something like “lolwut”**. Adroitly, I began to consider my options. There was no one else in the elevator, which meant that an awkward period of looking at one another and wondering what to do was out of play; nor, I may add, did the library exercise enough foresight to provide me with comically incongruent elevator music.
I pressed the open door button first, hoping that it would stay true to its name. A clink; a clank; a clock; a tock. The door opened ever so slightly; however, the gears remained locked. Bashing at the doors would not do (such a faux pas, indeed). Then, the open rear door button presented itself to my careening vision. Pressing said button successfully managed to open the rear doors of the elevator (such was the advanced state of this contraption). Next, peering out this chasm revealed the sketchy sight of a storage room; unfortunately, no clear exit path was visible, much to my consternation. To add to this outrageous situation, a large pile of folded multipurpose plastic and metal chairs formed a formidable blockade near the entrance. If this wasn’t a indicative declaration of highly suspect asset management and organization, I don’t know what would be. As such, I did not venture to enter the room.
Turning back to the portals’ control panel, the crimson choices coyly called themselves to me. To press the alarm button was to raise a lil’ hell; to press the speaker button was to try my luck with university services. I chose to confront the chimera that was the bureaucracy and pressed the speaker button. An amusing ” ring ring” sound emanated before I was connected to the heart of it all. Weary she sounded at initial address, but I managed to some how keep my wits about me in this (indubitably) most distressing of situations with great grandiloquence, limiting my rambling to only the beginning, middle, and end of my story. Options were soon proposed and she urged me to pass through the back door where euphoric freedom inevitably awaited; this was before the front door was to be opened and serviced.
But – mysteries of mysteries! I was never to discover the rendering of these services with TV-drama like emergency, for the front door was wrenched open by a janitor with a wry smile. Stuck in the elevator, eh? – said he. Blissfully answering this most rhetorical of questions, I exultantly bounced out the door and informed him of my scenario. To his side was a patient potential elevator passenger, her perplexed pose possibly indicating something of minute importance. Shrugging and grinning, scenarios of flighty cliched romance scenes failed to strike my mind as I turned and gallivanted up the stairs. It was dinner time, and a man needs his food.
* This is where the first part of the story would end, if serialized. Also, no, don’t even think about saying TWSS.
** Other common variations: lolwhaaaa, lolwhat, lolwuttt, and lolwat.
Moral: From this story, one learns that nondescript and mundane situations can definitely be flowered up for the fantastic. Ambiguity is for the weak, so if it’s not important, make it so, yo.
Another Moral: Take the stairs.
There are times where things happen that will be life changing
… some other times? Not so much.
.
