Once again, the parking garage took hold of me this afternoon and I lost myself in laughter.
Special note of interest: Okay, okay. It wasn't so much elevator music as it was elevator conversation. The hospital elevators don't play music. What a shame. Some of them talk to you, in soothing monotones. But they just won't serenade.
So, Matt and I enter the parking garage and head for the elevators so we can reach the 3rd level and find our car. I pushed the button, and we waited for our lift. Doors opened, and we entered the elevator alone. Out of nowhere, two young women come blazing through the doorway, and Matt and I are instantly separated. He found himself in one corner, and I was pushed into another. Matt looked at me and said, "You're so far away." I giggled, and one of the ladies laughed. Then I said, "Babe, it's just an elevator." The woman laughed again. Matt looked at me, with all seriousness written on his face, and simply stated, "Separation Anxiety." I started laughing so hard it hurt once again. And the woman found it pretty amusing too, because she laughed her way off of the elevator.
It's in the little things.
No comments:
Post a Comment