Rage In An Elevator

It seemed like people were really on edge in my building yesterday, myself included. Or maybe it’s just that when you’re stressed out, everyone else seems stressed out too. Kind of like when you want a new car and then all you see is that kind of car on the road. You know how it works.

On any given workday, I ride the elevator a minimum of five times. So what are the odds that yesterday two people started telling me/showing me their problems on our shared ride down?

One (clearly) disturbed lady in a power suit started telling me about how she was sure one of her clients in being battered by her husband and how the client canceled her appointment with the husband listening on the other line. It was all too creepy and “Sleeping With the Enemy” for a Thursday.

Then, a few hours later, I walk into the elevator just as this guy decides throw a punch into the elevator wall. As luck and Murphy's Law would have it, the ride down lasted an extra two floors because we were both going down to G2. UN-comfortable!

It’s always nice when other people’s shitty problems put your seemingly shitty problems in perspective. However forced and awkward as it may be.