Jesus Christ, lady. There are only two of us on the elevator and you can’t push the damn button yourself?
Instead, you got on, barely glanced at me and said “four”. Not even a fucking please? I shouldn’t have pushed it and made you ride up to five. But noooo…like a good little drone I pushed that number four.
So I made a general comment that I would have just pushed the button I needed myself. Your response? “Good for you” in that fucking patronizing tone. Screw you bitch. If I see you again and we’re on the elevator together, I’m pushing every button but the one you need, because you won’t notice anyway, since you don’t look at little things like what button has been pushed.
I may be wearing jeans and a sweatshirt - that doesn’t mean I’m below you in any way shape or form. Oh, but I forgot, you might break a nail doing something as hard as pressing an elevator button.
Oh, and then we got to four, you poked your head out and said “I think this is the right one” and looked around. Get off and go away!
I don’t know why this irritated me so much this morning. And I know, gross generalizations are not a good thing. But I really wanted to slap her.
I would hope that that would have been the case, just to give her the benefit of the doubt, but it still doesn’t excuse the rudeness. I don’t think I would be offended if a person got onto the elevator that I was standing in, and asked “Can you press floor four for me?” but I would definitely be offended if they got on and said “Four.” Some people are so rude.
I probably would have pulled the “I can’t hear you and have no idea you’re speaking to me” routine, then called her a bitch when she exited the elevator.
Then again, I have wicked PMS so I’m kinda crabby.
Nope. I got on, pressed the button I needed and stepped all the way to the rear of the elevator because I knew she was coming on behind me and would need to press a button. Zette, I didn’t even think about PMS as a possibility…but this would be a typical PMS reaction to something (she was still a rude bitch, but my temper flared way higher than it should have for something that really is, in the grand scheme of things, relatively minor).
I SWEAR this same thing happened to me a few years ago.
I get on an elevator in a ten story building; press “10” and step to the back. Man gets on and stands to the opposite side of the panel and says “four”.
Even though I’m on the same side of the elevator as the panel, but since I’ve moved to the back, I’ll need to take a full stride forward to press your button.
More correctly, we’re about equidistant from the panel.
The doors start to close and I look at the gentleman and reply…
“…aaaaaaand what do ‘we’ say?..”
Him- “Huh?”
Me- “What do we say?.. When we’re asking for something we want? We sayyyyy… what?”
Him- “HUH?”
Me- “We say ‘please’. Right?!”
Him- (leaning/lurching toward the panel and hitting the “four” button just as we pass the fourth floor. Then he scrambles to press “five” just as we pass THAT floor. Finally hits “six” in time while saying…) “Goddamyoumadememissmyflooryousonofabitch!”
He gets out on “six”, turns and punches the “down” button for another elevator.
I say “have a nice day” as the doors close and I see him raise his middle finger in my general direction.
I couldn’t resist riding the elevator to my floor and not getting off, and riding back down just to see if he’d still be there when the doors opened.
He was.
“Fancy seeing you again!” says I.
“Bastard.” he replys
“Kiss your mother with that same filty mouth, do you?”
(yeah, I know, that response is lame. But it’s the only thing I could think of at the time.)
Other than that exchange, we rode down to “four” in silence.
I also couldn’t resist getting off with him to watch him fume away.
“Four”
“Babonda gekan?”
“Four”
“Doomakia filek?”
“Press Four”
“Aaaah, Halenki desin!”
(continue until she gives up and presses the button herself, then say “Oh, four!”)
Or maybe just “¿Que?” (repeating as necessary, being careful not to understand)
