and entering

Whoever is the Voice in the Elevator Can Absolutely Get It

going down? ;)

CAMBRIDGE, MA -- Listen, I’ve ridden elevators hundreds of times, and never have I given it a second thought. I shuffle in, press the button for the thirteenth floor, stare at my shoes for 45 seconds, and go on my merry way.

But yesterday, in William James, everything changed when I noticed a smoky, disembodied voice coming from the corner -- an amorous timbre that set my heart aflame. It was an uneventful ride down from section until I got to the bottom of the shaft, the doors gave way, and I heard her croon the words every man longs to hear: “First floor. Main lobby.”

I know what you’re thinking: it’s obvious that this iron-clad siren is into me. I’ve turned down the advances of heavy-duty industrial machinery before, but damn, the erotic floor-by-floor narration that comes out of that elevator is enough to make me repeatedly smash “Door Close”. And every time she murmurs, “Going down,” I can’t help but whisper back, “on me.”

Now, I’m not gonna lie: she’s kind of a squealer. Pushing her buttons seemed like a good idea until I whacked the tiny red fire helmet; the whole scene erupted in flashing red lights and wails that sounded slightly less than pleasured. But rest assured: when the squadron of firemen arrived and removed me from the car, I made sure they knew I hit it first.

If her voluptuous monotone is any indication, I think it’s high time we take our relationship to a new level. And, because I know you’re interested, she has a twin sister one door down who is open for business. But please – whatever you do, just don’t tell my side lift in Lev Tower or I’ll definitely get shafted.

© 2019