Throwing my day's possessions into a rucksack and about to begin running out the front door, It dawned on me that I've not eaten that day and was feeling halfway from a contented belly and slightly peckish. Do I risk it and ignore this minor murmur of hunger or play it safe.
After much deliberation, internal PowerPoint presentation and boardroom meetings with my body's partners and investors, I thought it best to make a quick peanut butter sandwich to buy me a few hours and hopefully not have to concede to buying any food. I leave the flat, tasty sandwich in mouth and I call the lift to take me down to the outside world.
|Eventually the big guns had to be called in to settle the matter (via centurionhealthcorp.blogspot.com)|
The thing I've found with residential lifts is that they're generally always empty, my building has two, reducing my overall chance of 'shareage', resulting in me only ever having to share a lift with another human being a handful of times.
The doors slides open, and the polite chat and laughter that was going inside, stops. I instantly feel like an innocent puppy that has just bounded in from the garden, disturbing a swanky cocktail party, to show off my fresh peanut butter rat, I've just shaken the life out of. Only to be met with disapproving looks and (probably) very hidden horror.
I enter the sound void and press the 'L' button for the lobby. This was met with a certain glare which I translated to be, “I can't believe you pressed THAT button!” – This was probably because I was the only one travelling to the lobby and I could hear their monologue screaming - “What is this guy all aboot? He has turned up, like a peanut butter bandit, ruining our fun party of joy and is now slowing down our progress to the car park. Bet he's from Toronto, eh!”
|Disapproving Dog disapproves of me (via hawaiiecigvaper.com)|
Ignoring the rows of disproving eyes, I slowly eat my once yummy sandwich, which now tastes like failure. “I'll be home free soon and outside” I think reassuringly to myself – But that self-support quickly waned, as I appeared to be taking part in the world record for the slowest lift journey. Ever.
This allows gravity to sneak into the room and increase it's power in and around my sandwich, it managed to grab hold of a big chunk of peanut buttered bread and slowly tear it away from it's friends. I was powerless to stop it as I saw each crumb breaking away from each other, yelling “no, no, No, No, NO, NO, NO!!” - it was doing its best not to fall off...
|Hang in there little buddy! (via strangecosmo.com)|
I, along with everyone else was watching... All I heard next, was the sound of a light breeze as this fallen comrade fell slowly onto the ground like a lead balloon, eventually gas it was falling through became a solid.
Everything went black and white as I imagine a church sitting behind fog soaked foreground, chiming the saddest bell it has. Just the once.
|Donggggg (via consultingpastor.com)|
All I can do is look down at it, in shock.
It stares back up at me, it looked sad and sorry.
Oh, I'm not angry at you once tasty big chunk of peanut buttered bread, just disappointed, at myself, you're forgiven.
It cries a single tear of peanut oil.
People look angry, I've manured peanut butter at their party and I don't have puppy eyes to save me, think, think, think dammit. I stare blankly at the result of gravity's mischief – then I cast my memory back... YES!
As I saw it's face cry... that means it landed peanut butter side up! and... peanut butter is sticky... And I'm wearing shoes... I can pick it up with my shoe! Yes, a plan!
I move my foot into position, hovering over the bothersome bite of bread and gently tap it on its face. I move my raised foot out the line of my vision to see if the attachment had successfully uploaded. Damn, it hadn't. Time was running out and L fast approached, I had no option but to go Hulk smash on the snack. I subtly stomp on it... I check again... Hurrah! It stuck! I was so involved in this operation, I've no idea if anyone was looking or not.
The lobby floor arrived and the doors open. Ah, I appear to have hit a snag in this master plan, I can't actually walk out out the lift, that would just be smearing kerosene to an already roaring fire... I really have no time to think this over, so I do the first thing that comes to my head.
My split second decision told me I had to get out by any means possible as I couldn't really join this party down to the car park. “Any means possible” in this case, meant smoothly and subtly trying to hop out of there without arousing any suspicion.
|This is how I normally exit a lift, what do you do? Walk!? *scoff* (via rexpurefoyhollywoodcowboyshow.com)|
Judging by the bemused faces as the doors closed behind me, I definitely failed at doing just that. Oh well, I doubt I'll ever see them again, it's not like we live within close proximity of each other...