Thursday, March 31st, 2011

I’ve loved elevators since I was a kid. I think just about every kid does. The sliding doors aren’t the novelty they once were, but the idea of a little car that you can drive up and down a vertical hallway is way too nifty for words. I ride elevators wherever I find them, even if I don’t have to. But, if elevators were anything like the nightmarish instruments of torture I have to ride in my dreams, I’d never get in one again ever.

In my dream world there are two kinds of elevators: One kinds looks like a regular elevator with sliding doors and walls and a panel and everything I’d expect to find when you stepped inside to lull me into a false sense of security. After the doors close and I press a button to choose the floor I’d like to go to, however, the floor goes up or down, just as I’d expect, but the walls don’t. The challenge here is obviously to stay away from the walls, which in this case are irregularly studded with hooks and knobs and other features that would snatch away parts of me if I were to get too close.

The other kind of elevator is just a floor, usually no more than a foot square. I hate these things. Every time I ride one of them I nearly fall off, which is the point of the dream, I suppose. No matter how many times I tell myself, This is the last time I’m using one of these! I always seem to get back on when I’m faced with using one, as I did last night. I had to get to the very top floor of a dizzyingly tall building right away. The only elevator was a tiny square of concrete that stuck out of the front of the building like a stoop. Bowing to the inevitable, I stepped up onto it, closed my eyes and pressed the button, causing the tiny little square to shoot up into the air much faster than an elevator is supposed to go.

The nightmarish thing about these wall-less elevators is obviously that it’s just about impossible to remain standing as they climb into the air, no matter how convincingly I try to argue with myself that it would be easy to stand on this tiny little square it if it were on the ground. The point is, it’s not on the ground, and I end up crouching over the little square, searching the edges with my fingers for anything to hold onto.

Sometimes, just to make the ride even worse, the elevator has to pass through a hole in the ceiling that’s just big enough for the little square. If any part of me is hanging over the edges, like my fingers, for instance, they’ll be left behind like the trimmings outside the edges of a cookie cutter. I hate these elevators most of all.

Last night’s ride was just the opposite of one of those: As it went up the outside of the building it got further and further away from the wall, a tiny little square flying through the air with no visible means of support, climbing faster and faster as I clung to it for dear life and hoped that it wouldn’t stop now because if it did, I was pretty sure I’d just shoot off away from it into space. I can’t remember now how that dream ended, but it probably wasn’t happily ever after.

elevate me | 8:46 am CDT
Category: daily drivel | Tags:
3 Comments | Add a comment


  1. 1 Gary j said at 9:48 am on March 31st, 2011:

    Best elevator ride ever; Space Needle, Seattle.

  2. 2 Dave said at 12:06 pm on March 31st, 2011:


  3. 3 Gary J said at 12:08 pm on April 1st, 2011: