Stuck On A Sunday
Sometime last year, I was in the 57 story Wells Fargo Center in downtown Minneapolis with my grandfather. It was a Sunday, so the building was empty. We had gone to the top, and went back down to a floor somewhere in the 30's. When we got in, I pressed the floor number, and we waited... and waited. I remember hearing stories about people being stuck in elevators, and instead of trying to continue pressing the floor number, I pressed the "doors open" button, so we could use a different elevator instead. When nothing happened, I started to panic inside, staying calm on the outside. All I wanted to do was be freed from the elevator, and so I pried open the doors with my hands so we could just jump out. When I opened the doors, I remember feeling the resistance from the elevator doors back at me, and when we escaped back onto the floor we were on, the elevator floor was not centered up with the real floor by a good half of a foot. Of, course I had to take a deep breath or four, before taking a different elevator to the bottom and leaving the building altogether. Since then, I use elevators still, but usually, only when I have to.