They wouldn't let me drive a car, but I
could an elevator. Up, stop. Down, stop. Guest walk in, I drive and let them
out, mostly. What to do in an elevator isn't taught—it should be one of those instincts you just know—like walking.
If so I’d open the doors and people would
step out. New people would step in and say what floor. I’d learn where they’re
from. There’d be no fuss if I paused for more people. I’d open the doors; we’d
wish each other well.
As it is, I pull the doors open.
“Going up?”
“Down.”
