Nothing at All to Do With Jane Austen
I slipped up and forgot my post on Austen Authors. So, it was either try and cobble together something interesting Austen oriented, or post something embarrassing.
I’m going for embarrassing.
Posted on Jane Started It! on March 05, 2012:
Elevator Interlude
A week ago, several of we Guild Girls spent a weekend in Portland, Oregon. If you read my Comes a Weekend post you know we ate and wrote. Not in that order. Anyway, Saturday night we sprang for delivery pizza. This required soda. I bummed change from Laura (Hile), took the drink orders and headed out to the elevator.
The Mark Spencer Hotel is a nice place. And moderately priced so it seems to have an interesting mix of guests. Just down the hall from the elevators was a party room complete with raucous laughter and music. I was listening to the music when the elevator finally opened.
Standing in the doorway of the car, slightly confused, was a slouching guy in a cheesy running suit. He looked up and down the hallway, then looked at me, and motioned for me to get in the car.
Now I watch about every crime drama on network television. I really like Criminal Minds with it’s weekly serial killer themes. This guy needs to audition. He’s got the vibe down cold. Saying this, you would think I’d smile and make an excuse. Did I? Nah.
Not wanting to look like a scaredy cat, or a suspicious rube, I got right in. All the while “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?!” and “THIS IS DANGEROUS!” were clattering around in my head.
All the experts say that if you feel uncomfortable in a situation, get out of it no matter how it looks to others. Especially some creepy guy in the elevator you have to use to get the soda.
So, I’m standing to the back of the elevator car, considering there are no hand holds to use for leverage so I could kick him if he attacked me. But then I noticed something … he pushed the button with his finger covered with his track suit. The guy was a bit, or maybe a lot, germaphobic. **
That’s my ticket. I figured if he made any moves I didn’t like, BOMBS AWAY! In this case, I was hoping spit would be as good a pepper spray. At that moment I began to work up the biggest wad of spit possible. By the time we got to the lobby, I felt pretty doggone safe from this badly dressed, slightly confused guy with bad posture.
The door opened, he looked up and down the hall and lobby and wandered off. But I was safe. Me and my new weapon of choice.
I went back to the room and told Laura and Pamela (Aidan). They laughed. Laura said I don’t get out enough.
Looking back, I wonder if that guy was also a fan of crime shows and was considering his options in case I turned out to be a serial killer. A fat, badly dressed serial killer with a handful of quarters.
**My co-blogger, Robin Helm read this and pointed out he might have been keeping his fingerprints off the button rather than being a germaphobe. She had a great point! For a crime drama fan, I have to say I felt like a real chump. But thinking back, he was hugging his corner pretty tightly. I think he was afraid I was radiating germs. Or anger. Or hunger. Who knows.
And now it’s time to share. Do you have any slightly embarrassing stories of distrust and suspicion?
Take care–Susan Kaye
15 Responses to Nothing at All to Do With Jane Austen
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Ok, this is both creepy and hilarious at the same time! Hmmm. I’d have to think about some of my own embarassing moments…
I felt sorry for the guy, he looked like central casting for “outcast,” “mentally unstable,” “suspicious,” “frightened-of-everything.”
For a few seconds, our lives intermingled and a little real life flash fiction played out.
I should add that this hotel was built around 1900, which means the elevators were very small. Charming, if squeezing in three friends. Not-so-charming in the situation Susan describes. My cherished “personal space” was almost nonexistent.
! Just thought I should make this clear in case you were thinking she is a pansy.
You might not know, too, that Susan Kaye has blue-blue eyes. And she’s got the military ice-cold glare —”Do NOT mess with me!” — down to a science. Nobody but nobody can flash a “Back off, Bud,” message like the blue-eyed!
Survival skills learned in the ‘hood.
Yikes! Susan, the first thing I thought of when you mentioned he pushed the button with his finger covered by his track suit was what Robin pointed out: that he was trying not to leave incriminating fingerprints! Of course, I’d like to think I wouldn’t have gotten into that elevator, but I have a feeling I would have been right there along with you – crazy germaphobic serial killer and all.
Glad you made it out alive!
So goes life. put that scene in a book and I’m ringing up clues by the bucketful, in my own life, not so much. Poor guy. If he ever reads and recognises himself, he’ll probably send me an email letting mo know he was a pastor comforting a dying friend, or a care giver seeing to an elderly patient. The embarrassing part will be when he tells me I remind him of his cranky mother!
I’m married to a police officer so we have these sorts of moments all the time. Yesterday we are in Homeland (large grocery store) getting groceries and he spots a potential criminal element so leaves me to go and follow them through the grocery store. They bought milk, beer and eggs and probably wondered why they were being followed by a middle aged man in a baseball cap and sunglasses. LOL It is often hysterically funny but sometimes embarassing. Of course when I’m by myself I find that he’s rubbed off on me and I am always suspicious of the most innocent of bystanders
Oh yeah, and I would have thought the guy was keeping his prints from being left. LOL Great story!
Ha, Stephanie, I know what you mean!
I am a middle school teacher. In public venues where teens are obnoxious and misbehave — such as the park, the mall, or the cinema lobby — I must work to turn off my weapons of choice: the Teacher Voice, the War-Path Stride, and the Death Ray Look.
These days it pays to be vigilant, but I think our writers’ brains take it too far. No one really wants to star in a fight scene of their own creation, but you never know what will happen when you step out for a quart of milk.
Hahaha! I am not real sure what I would have done. Probably gotten the elevator like you!
You are such a great storyteller, Susan! I love it when people can make normally boring stories, like riding on an elevator, interesting!
So glad you made it out safe!
I am paranoid to an extent so every outing has a freakish sideshow to be had. The more I think about it, spitting would probably work whether the guy was a germaphob or not. Unexpected bodily fluids are off putting even to the bloody-minded.
I was unmarried and in Las Vegas with my older sister. Two handsome young men offered to teach us how to play blackjack, and we accepted. I won $40! Hurrah! After awhile, we excused ourselves and went back to our room. When we opened the door to go out again, the two men were standing there! Holy Cow! or something like that. They asked to come in. We declined. They followed us around the casino until we gave them the slip! Fortunately, the next day we were heading home. Probably harmless, but you never know.
That is genuinely creepy. And it had probably worked before so they were perfecting their act. They are lucky you and your sister weren’t cons, creeps or criminals with your own devious ways!
What a hoot! Truthfully, I could see myself in this scenario so I cannot poke fun.
Thanks for sharing!
I am nothing if not fun to watch!