It was an ordinary day as I fell out of bed this morning grumbling to Rey about the nightmares that stalked me through the night. Elevators were the subject. Not uncommon. Not terribly exciting. Just the typical forget to push your floor, end up on the 12th, crash to your death.
So, I headed off to work and arrived five minutes early—only because my supervisor was in town—to encounter an elevator maintenance crew in the lobby of my building. Coincidence, I thought.
But apparently, I thought wrong, because upon entering the elevator, the following conversation ensued:
“I don’t like to see those guys working on the elevators”
“Neither do I.”
“You know, the elevator to the right of us fell yesterday.”
“Are you kidding!?!”
“No! One of our attorneys was riding it down. It only fell one floor and he wasn’t hurt, but he was pissed off!”
This is where I exited the death ride. Am I the only one who knows the meaning of foreshadowing? Stairs are in my near future.