Play Nice

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[This is where the summary would go if I'd bothered to write one.]

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Ride #15

My contribution to the The Elevator Blog.

I read a thing or heard a thing once that, if given enough time, people in elevators will all line up the same. Since then I’ve been trying to prove this right. I gotta say it hasn’t worked yet. Most times when I get on an elevator, I take a step to the right and place my back to the wall, facing the side, not the back or the front, the side, so that, when someone else gets on, I’m seeing their profile. People, when they get on and it’s not crowded, will head to the corners, like prizefighters waiting for the bell. You ever notice that?

Sometimes I wonder what would happen if every time that bell dinged—the bell that indicates a different floor—I came out swinging? Do you think people would hit back? I don’t know. Sometimes I think they might but often I think they would just let me hit them and that’s kind of sad. So I haven’t ever done it because it would break my heart to hit someone and not have them hit me back.

Another thing I haven’t ever done is have sex in an elevator. I came close once. But I was just by myself so I decided I wasn’t really in the mood. Can I tell you my fantasy? See, this is what I think. I think what I’d like to have happen is for me to be in the elevator, for this woman to come in, she doesn’t have to be drop dead gorgeous mind you. How come when people fantasize about having sex with other people the fantasy folk are always really good looking? I mean, I know it’s a fantasy but there has to be some basis on reality right? And let’s face it. Most regular folk, like me and you for instance, we aren’t ever gonna get the supermodels so what’s the point in pretending? Better, I say, to fantasize about actual possibilities. Then it’s much more, what’s the word, titillating? Don’t you just like the way that word rolls around your tongue? Ti-til-lating. Makes you wanna suck on it for a day and a half, like a cherry lifesaver. Makes my mouth water.

Right. So my fantasy. Yeah. The woman comes in and I’m doing my sideway standing thing and she looks at me out of the corner of her eye. I nod. It just so happens, see, that I’m dressed presentable today on account of the job interview. Well, what can I say? I’m a lazy fuck. I multi-task in my fantasies. Might as well pack as much in as I can I figure. Anyways, I’m feeling good cuz the interview went well and now this nice lady is giving me the eye and not an evil one if you know what I mean. The elevator, like it’s a sentient thing, understanding my plight, gives a little shudder and stops. 

She turns to face me head on now. “What did you do,” she would ask, not really worried, more curious say. “Nothing,” I say. She would utter a quiet little “oh”, her lips all puckered and inviting, causing a man to think all kinds of thoughts.  “How long do you suppose we’re gonna be in here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Hmm. Well, what do you propose we do in the meantime?”

I chuckle and look down at the floor. “We could always fuck,” I say. It’s a fantasy remember? I don’t have to be suave. Not that I could be even if I wanted to be. You gotta know your limitations. No sense in ruining the mood trying too hard. And that’s it. She says yes and we do it every way I know how. It doesn’t take long.

Usually by the time I’m done thinking about that little fantasy the elevator has arrived at my floor and I get off.


Published 02/23/05 in Writing • | Views: 2780 times | Print

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