There are great things about living in a dorm. I've met some amazing people and had some good times hanging out, watching TV and telling jokes and stories.
You really get to know people when you're stuck in an elevator with them for an hour.
It was late Sunday afternoon. I was on my way to Mass at the cathedral about a block away. As I was waiting for the elevator, I discovered that two of my fellow floormates (and two of the aforementioned amazing people), Cooper and Joannah, were also heading outside. With Joannah were her brother and two of her friends.
This brings the total number of people heading into the elevator to six. Six is the maximum number of people that are supposed to be on the elevators. In August, some intelligent students decided to fit eight in.
This proved unsuccessful, and the elevator got stuck, resulting in the fire department coming to get them out.
Seeing as how there were six of us, we were unconcerned. We all got in without difficulty and pressed the button to the first floor. We headed down, casually chatting and commenting on the weather.
As we reached the sixth floor, there was a sudden horrible sound. Our eyes became wide and our mouths hung open as the red No. 6 flashed next to the unopen doors.
Oh, there was more to it--not only were the doors not opening, but the elevator wasn't moving. We pressed up, we pressed down. We frantically hit the button for the doors to open.
"Oh my God," Cooper said. "It's stuck. The elevator is stuck."
We uttered various obscenities and rested our heads against the wall in frustration.
Joannah laughed, "I've been waiting for this to happen--I have literally been waiting all year. It's just--this is just perfect."
There's a button you can hit that calls the front security desk. We alerted them to our situation. Unfortunately, they had to summon The Greatest Man in the Universe (the maintenance guy who could unjam the elevator for us), and they didn't know where he was, and it would probably be awhile.
We are children of the technological age. Faced with nothing else to do, we all pulled out our cell phones and began calling just about everyone we knew.
All of our conversations went something like this: "Hey. Yeah. Guess where I am? I'm stuck in an elevator. No, I'm not kidding. Yes, I'm serious. Why would I joke about something like that? Yes, I'm really stuck in an elevator."
About 20 minutes later, it began to get hot. There were, after all, six of us. We had filled it to its maximum capacity. We took off our jackets and sweaters and positioned ourselves in such a manner that we could all sit or squat on the floor, where it was a little cooler.
Periodically, the front desk would call us to make sure we were doing all right. Yes, we were fine, but did they know when our hero would arrive?
The answer was always, "He's on his way."
Forty minutes into it, it became a little difficult to breathe. We found a deck of cards in someone's purse, but there wasn't enough room to play, and we didn't really want to anyway; we were just desperate for something to do.
Joannah found Play-Doh in her bag, and we made smiley faces on the elevator walls.
I was thirsty and hot and I was beginning to get a headache from the lack of air. The fact that I'm asthmatic but didn't have the good sense to bring my inhaler probably didn't help my situation.
We all began getting angry. What was taking Amazing Man so long? Did they even realize that we were in a desperate state? Did they even care?
Just as we were mourning what would certainly be our unfortunate and untimely demise (and such a shame it should occur as we were in the prime of our youth), there was a jolt. The elevator moved down to the fourth floor, and the doors opened.
Cold air rushed in, and we all pushed to get out. We breathed in the fresh air, and pointed out how everyone's cheeks were flushed from the heat. We hurried down the stairs and filled out a form at the front desk saying yes, we were stuck in the elevator, and yes, it was for an hour and no, we didn't know how or why it happened.
I stepped out onto the sidewalk and the chilly evening wind hit my face. It was cold, but I was mostly just relieved. I snuck into Mass in time to catch the Lord's Prayer and found my friends, who were happy that I was OK but had a good laugh at my expense.
In retrospect, it is kind of amusing. I mean, really, it was even rather funny at the time.
This is the best part, though: Later that night, Cooper and my roommate, Megan, went outside to move Megan's car. They (unwisely) got into the same elevator. It stopped, once again, on the sixth floor. They were in the elevator for an hour and a half. It was Cooper's second time stuck in an elevator that day, and it was Megan's birthday.
In short, my floormates and I are getting a lot more fit now that we've decided to not be entirely lazy and take the stairs more often.