A funny thing happened to me yesterday. Funny strange. Not funny ha-ha. Although it may be funny ha-ha to you. Which, of course, is why I'm writing about it. I crave positive reinforcement.
I got on the elevator after lunch (Yes, I take the elevator for a two-floor trip. Yes, I am pathetic AND lazy -- the million dollar combination.) and punched the buttom for Floor 3 -- ladies apparel, sportswear and the DTN newsroom.
Three other ladies got on the elevator (I hate that. I like to ride the elevator by myself. It's my alone time.) They wanted Floor 2 -- Domestics, mens wear and shoes. So I punched the 2 button.
At floor two, the ladies left. The elevator doors closed. The elevator moved. The doors opened. I disembarked. And then realized I was back on Floor 1 -- Sundries, kitchen appliances and toys.
I couldn't run back on the elevator -- the people who saw me get off as they got on might wonder what was wrong with me. (Of course, they might not even notice or think anything about me at all, but that's not within my personal personality misfunction to even consider. )
So to avoid odd looks, I went in to the ladies bathroom, came back out and waited for the elevator again.
So... I can't figure out if I had a little mini-stroke and missed the trip from Floor 2 to Floor 3 and only recovered back at Floor 1. Or if there is some kind of wrinkle in the space-time continuim that can be accessed from the DTN West Tower elevator.
But something odd is definitely going on in that elevator.
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