Thursday, 10:15 p.m.
The elevator reeks of expensive cologne, perfume, flowers; all signs that people are going out to have fun. Thursday ends a busy week of doing school so the parties call and enjoyment awaits beyond the walls of our residence. Everyone has a way of celebrating the end of the week, I too have my own. I methodically press three. This is the elevator smelling at its best. The worst is yet to come.
Thursday, 1:53 a.m.
The elevator stinks of alcohol and other related pungent smells. The party-goers are back, some from Boston and others from on-campus parties, either way their return can be felt or rather smelt. I marvel at their idea of fun and realize that they would marvel at mine too. Isn't college supposed to be a place where we learn about different lifestyles? I press two. My bed is calling.
Saturday, 8:00 p.m.
I press three and feel slightly guilty. I hear the voices of my friends on the third floor in my head reprimanding me for not using the stairs, so I lie to myself about using the stairs next time or something to that effect. I get on the elevator and bump into the “regulars,” they are also going to the third floor. So we make small talk.
Saturday, 11:53 p.m.
I press two and hum a song in the elevator, sometimes I sing. I used to believe elevators are soundproof. Now I don’t anymore so I am more cautious.
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, 9:37 a.m. or later
Will I make it to my 9:45? I wait for five seconds for the elevator to open. Using the stairs would have been so much faster. I’ll use the stairs tomorrow, I think. The elevator smells stale. I press one and wonder how I will survive in the real world. Sometimes I contemplate how fast I will have to run to make it to class or if I can afford to be late for class X. I also tell myself I will have to be early tomorrow. The door opens and I start running. Life is absurd.
Thursday, 11:00 p.m.
I need help finishing the evil MAC quiz so I thank my lucky stars for members of the third floor. I wonder if I will make it through this year intact what with GPA’s and campus activities occupying my life. I press three and wonder whether elevator pitches are necessary. I haven’t had to use my rocket pitch skills in any elevator so far.
Fire alarm day, 7:00 p.m.
My nap was destroyed so I sleepwalk through the blaring noise and out of stupid habit, wait for the elevator. The hallway smells like ashes and smoke but I am not worried. Someone burnt popcorn again or it it easy mac this time? I grumpily press one and find a crowd of people outside. In retrospect, if it was a real fire, my life would have been at risk. Who in their right mind uses the elevator when there’s a fire alarm? The power of habit is deadly.
The odd day, late in the afternoon
There was that one odd day where the elevator smelt of weed because there weren’t a lot of people on campus. If you are going to smoke weed, the least you can do is weed-out the smell, get it "weed-out"? The smell was too strong so I used the stairs.
Last days of school
The elevator becomes more effective as people lug their luggage to the first floor. More unfamiliar faces pop up and goodbyes start hitting home. The elevator becomes a platform for separation but it is only temporary. Soon we will return to the same routine but maybe this time, I will use the stairs.
