The Quarterly Grain Report

I'll Bet You Didn't Foresee This, Elisha Graves Otis

Well, after almost a solid month without new material, you're undoubtedly thinking that I must have bars upon bars of pure gold ready to spew out of my mind and onto your screen. You would be wrong. But I will share with you a few casual observations dealing with my first month of dorm-inhabitance. What follows is Part One of an eleven-part series that may or may not continue to Part Eleven.

Part I: The Elevator
A typical elevator ride can be summed up with two words, or one word, if they were combined for some reason. Dead Silence.

I enter the 'vator (that's what the cool kids call it) from the 7th floor, and it usually has 3-4 passengers already inside. This is when the trouble starts. Those on the 10th floor have the distinct advantage of looking directly at everyone as they come on, but by the time the thing gets to seven, I obviously do not. So upon entry there are two options: 1) Quickly scan all the passengers to determine whether there is someone I should acknowledge, or 2) Keep my eyes locked on either the floor, or a wall devoid of people. Bear in mind that by opting for number two, I run the risk of unintentionally disrespecting someone that I may have just met. But in going for the former, I may, by making eye contact, feel impelled to say hello to all of those I have just looked at. This effect can be eliminated altogether by simply wearing sunglasses, but that would be fucking weird. I'm afraid that it is a double-edged sword.

Once on, the 'vator is much more cramped, and will continue to add passengers for three more floors. Now, you may question why I continue to use a machine that troubles me so on a daily basis, and I may ask you to hold your questions until the end of the lesson. But one situation is rewarding enough to keep me coming back.

When the elevator is sufficiently full, and everyone is staring in the same direction (towards the shiny metal doors), it comes to a halt. The doors slide open, and a single person boards. This person does not turn around upon entry, however, but remains staring toward the back wall, and into the eyes of all who are trapped inside the chamber with him. He soon realizes he has made a grave mistake, and he tries to pull an inconspicuous 180 within the dense, human bundle. This, my friends is why I ride the elevator. Along with the hope that someday I'll end up on the 9th floor, only it will be an empty department store, and the mannequins will all be lifelike and creepy.

Remember to tune in next week kiddies, when Podiatrist Ponyboy is going to stop by and teach us how to successfully remove a heel spur, using only a switchblade!

posted by Arthur Croft Yates @ 1:54 PM