I’m in the elevator today and it stops on another floor. This massive man in one of those electric wheelchairs comes barreling in. He’s one of those people that your eyes need .2 seconds to sweep over and you can tell he is surly and mean. He has a permanent scowl etched across his cracked and chapped lips. Before his big wheelie is even all the way through the elevator doors he turns and starts punching the “close door” buttons…even though there is a man behind him trying to get on. The doors begin to close on the guy. I push the “open door” button so as not to watch this man get pancake’d. He gives me a thankful smile. The grumpy ass man in the wheelie actually growls at me. I back into my corner and decide to mind my own business for the next 14 floors.
The 2nd guy onto the elevator that I saved from the doors also backs a little bit into my corner. I admit, the dude and his wheelie took up a lot of room and he parked in the middle of the elevator but I still felt guy #2 was a little up in my business. I can’t go anywhere though so I just stand there and suck it up. I notice the tool belt around his waist. His fingers are tinkering with an object. He pulls it out and it’s this huge silver scissors. It’s so shiny! I imagine it came from a doctor’s office and has been used to take out stitches on very important people. He begins to twirl it around his index finger like an ol’ west gunslinger and his Colt 45. I follow his eyes as they burn through the grumpy man in the wheelie who is breathing heavy and clearly agitated that this elevator moves at the speed of an Amish buggy in a muddy field.
Before I can stop my mind from running wild I imagine tool man stepping forward and slamming the scissors into wheelie’s jugular. I think of how the blood would splatter all over the mirrored walls and leave a red trail of death as it dripped. I could almost hear wheelie man growling and gurgling for breath. And then tool man turns on me, scissors back into position and spinning on his finger again. He wipes the blood from his brow and it smears into his gray hair. I have nowhere to run. I scream but no one can hear me. As he raises the scissors above his head I can see the reflection of my eyes in them. I can see my death coming towards me…
Then the elevator dings, the doors open to our desired floor and I’m back to reality. Wheelie man scoots out grumbling about something and nearly takes out a few elementary age kids that are walking through the lobby. I head towards the alley to have my cigarette and I’m glad that tool man went the opposite direction.