When you live in a high rise, it's easy to get lazy. My gym is on the floor below me. (I hardly visit it.) My laundry room is on the floor above me. (I visit it even less.) There's a roof deck I show guests. ("Oh yeah, I'm up here...never.") And a mezzanine that I use, though infrequently.
But my biggest faux pas is without a doubt the elevator. My building has six elevators serving 35 floors. One is the service elevator and I avoid it. One of the elevators has been out since January 2009. I am beginning to doubt it's ever coming back. Of the remaining four, two serve floors 1-21 and two serve the rest. I understand the frustration of waiting -- and waiting, and waiting -- for the elevator. But the dirty looks I get? Not as much.
Hello my (nick)name is roxy. I live on the third floor. And yes, I take the elevator.
It's there for a reason -- to help me get my lazy ass from the lobby to the 3rd floor. Sometimes the use is justified. I've got groceries. I'm hauling one of my many packages up. I'm in dangerously high heels and it's a miracle I survived the subway station stairs so I'm not risking death or ankle destruction in my own damn building.
Mostly though I'm just not thinking. Habit dictates that I enter the building and head for the elevator. At my work, the stairwell doors are locked so I couldn't take the stairs if I wanted to. And I think that's carried over to my home building, where my fried brain says home is where the elevator takes me. Perhaps I'll just blame the internet.
I had some friends over last weekend and they were lamenting their own elevator situation -- two of them to serve 40 floors. Yikes. Their immediate scapegoats for the long waits? Residents of floors 2-4. I found myself nodding and contributing. Damn those low-floor dwellers! Who do they think they are taking up valuable elevator space, what with their 2 floor trips and smug grins and fuck yous as they exit.
Oh wait.
Even in my own building I find my scorn directed at those damn brokers, who ride the elevator one floor from the lobby to the mezzanine to visit our leasing office. I will shoot daggers at them from my eyes. And then two floors later I will happily disembark at 3, happy to be home with my legs no worse for wear. What the remaining riders think of me was never a concern.
Recently though I've been visiting friends in high places. Specifically floors 23, 35 and 44. And I now know the annoyance that is stopping at floors 2, 3, 4, and really anything below 10. It sucks. The building commute inches up with each single-digit floor hit. And it's not really fair. So please accept my apologies, cloud-dwellers. I will try to take the stairs more often.
Except of course in heels.
