Eleven texted words suddenly rocked my world.
“Been stuck in an elevator w (sic) 15 people for 30 minutes.”
What? My son was stuck in an elevator on his campus 3000 miles away while I was blithely watching a play?
Yes. True story. Last Saturday night I was swept away to the land of Oz. During the intermission, mere moments after the Wizard demanded the broomstick of the Wicked Witch, I snuck a peek at my phone. Dorothy’s problems evaporated the second I read the shocking text.
Fortunately, there were follow ups. His sister, ever alert on phone watch, had responded quickly with a helpful “Making friends r u (sic)?” However soon realizing the dire nature of his situation, she fired off the more relevant “Can I call someone?”
I read their rapid exchange hungrily.
My lad provided an update on the number of fellow suffers; it did nothing to lessen my worry.
“Stuck in elevator *18 of us.”
18? An attached photo provided verification. Fortunately every inmate was equipped with a phone and calls had been issued. It had become a waiting game.
As the musicians returned to their instruments and began their squawky warmup, my mind revisited a somewhat similar event that occurred to me over a year ago.
It was my birthday. The three of us were staying at a lovely bed and breakfast in Ottawa for the weekend prior to settling my daughter into her university a few hours west.
After giving our breakfast orders to the waitress, I popped into the public bathroom located just down the hall. With our room three flights up, this one was more convenient.
It was more a closet than a bathroom. With the sink located next door, the room was just big enough for the toilet and one person. It was windowless. I flicked the light switch, conveniently hidden in the hallway, and shut the door. After completing my business, I reached for the door handle and turned. Nothing. Brushing off wisps of alarm, I took a deep breath and turned the knob again. Nothing.
Ever loathe to panic, I steadied myself and had a good look at the lock. It was the kind that could only be picked from the other side. Perfect. I rejiggied the door handle. Steadfastly refusing to budge it got even tighter.
This was ridiculous. I was stuck in a closet that was separated from the dining room by a noisy kitchen. Surely my children would soon miss me? It was my birthday!
After two minutes that seemed more like ten, I began to knock on the door in an attempt to rouse the staff. I could hear them rattling pans and chatting in the kitchen, a mere 10 feet from my prison. The air was beginning to thin.
Rapping soon turned into knocking which morphed into pounding.
Keenly aware of the need to keep panic from elevating my voice into an incomprehensible shriek I found myself donning a British accent and crooning an operatic “Helllllloooooooooo! Hellllloooooo! I’m stuck in the Baaahhhthrroommm!”
Nothing. If anything, the kitchen din grew louder.
I abandoned my pounding and resorted to whistling through my fingers. This is a skill I picked up in the summer of grade 8 from Margaret Cunningham whom I met at my sailing lessons at the Vancouver Yacht Club. Thank you Margaret. My shrill piercing blast soon aroused an alert member of the kitchen.
“Hello. Are you stuck?”
“Thank god. Yes. I have been locked in here for the past 10 minutes. Get me out please!”
“Yes ma’am. Turn the knob to the left.”
To the left? “Lefty-loosey, tighty-righty” is for screwing in bolts, not opening doors. Was he crazy?
I grasped the knob and jerked it to the left. The door swung open with a flourish.
My personal incarceration ruminations were interrupted with the dimming of the theatre lights. Wishing I could nab the ruby slippers and magically adhere them to my son’s feet, I quickly rechecked the phone. The most recent text was short but sweet. “Oh my god so scary we just got out.”
18 people jammed in an elevator for 45 minutes; I could well imagine the claustrophobia, fear and regret. His sister could too. She later brilliantly led us back to the light with this hilarious, short clip of the elevator riding duo of Dwight and Pam from The Office.
We needed that. Thank you. I’m glad you made it back safely to your dorm room H. Stay safe both of you.
Surely this is not simply a McKenzie habit. Have you ever been stuck in an elevator, bathroom or perhaps even a tree fort? Love to hear if you’d care to share.
21 Responses
I’ve never been stuck in an elevator, but I love the image of you hollering for help in a British accent! 🙂
It was quite something Harmony. My children told me they heard faint hollers from someone – no comment on the accent though.
By the time I got to lefty-loosey, tighty-righty I pushed my chair away from my desk, flung my head back and had the best laugh I’ve had in ages. Why I thank you very much, Kelly. If this hilarious post was birthed in that unfortunate elevator event, well (sorry H.) it’s worth it.
Really? That is so cool. Thanks for telling me. I had a lot of fun writing it and was chuckling as I remembered the water closet episode. Just another typiKel day…
So funny Kelly, I am still laughing about you being stuck in the elevator and calling in a British accent ! Glad Henry got out ok ! I am guessing he has some new friends ??
Sorry, meant to say stuck in the bathroom, should not push send before proofreading !!
Oh my Gosh, I loved EVERY.SINGLE.THING. about this post…I mean, not your son being stuck in the elevator or you being stuck in the bathroom, but the way that you wrote it was HILARIOUS!! I do have to wonder how much longer you would have had to stay in the bathroom before your family might have checked on you! ;)-Ashley
Exactly – how long would it have taken them to check on me? Probably days. Their reaction when i bolted back in and unabashedly enlightened the entire dining room of my plight, was decidedly blase. However I did manage to reduce one complete stranger to tears. I’ll never forget her simmering giggle, followed by a bellowing chortle. She kept apologizing as she mopped the tears streaming down her face. But I bet she used the bathroom in her room from then on …
I love the way you can turn any stressful situation into a funny story, Kelly. I have been stuck in an elevator (by myself and only for about 2 minutes b/c I realized (through hearing people walking along the hallway past the elevator) that while the elevator was between floors, it close enough to one of them that I could get out if the doors were open. So I pried the doors open and took a giant step up to rescue myself.) 🙂
Wow – no way Donna! That was so clever of you. Lucky you to get the doors open. Henry reported they managed to get the inner doors open but couldn’t do the outer set of doors. They were stuck between the 2nd and 3rd floor, I think. When the firemen finally came and rescued them (pried the outer doors open using a metal jobby that is similar to ones car thieves use apparently) everyone had to crawl out as floor was below them. Here’s hoping we all never, ever have this happen again. Ever.
Funny post Kelly- although I’m quite sure I wouldn’t be laughing if I had to crawl out an elevator. One of the first apartments I lived in would have elevator problems regularly and it always made me nervous. But like Donna, I did my fair share of jumping out between floors. That was crazy young behavior, pre getting old knees. 😉 I’m looking forward to the days when we can teleport ourselves out of any trapped situation.
Yes! Or perhaps borrow those ruby slippers…
Love this post, so interesting to see how people react in such situations! I was stuck in an elevator of an OLD creepy building TWICE on the 25th floor, and while it was eons ago, reading this made me remember like it was yesterday (laughing, of course, because it seemed like hours I was stuck, when really it was probably half hour tops.)
Yikes. That’s quite a long time too. And you were stuck in there twice? Man alive. That’s above the call of duty.
I’ve never been stuck in an elevator or a bathroom, but I have been locked out plenty of times. I guess that’s a better predicament to be in! But you know I’ll be thinking of you next time I get into an elevator…
By all means think of me. Also – count the number of folks in the elevator. 18 when there should be only 14 is perhaps not a good idea…
I got the vapors just reading about your son’s elevator mishap and your bathroom debacle. I remember you saying that your secret talent was being able to whistle so loud you could peel paint from the walls – sure came in handy, eh?
I have never been stuck in an elevator or a bathroom and now I am going to spend the rest of the night knocking on wood.
Love the clip from The Office. Well done, Meredith, indeed. Good daughter/sister knowing that humor makes everything better.
With all the wood knocking did you manage to get some sleep? Hope so. Love, love, love the “… got the vapors.” Who says that? I am going to from now on. Brilliant. Thank you.
Holy Moly that would have scared the mess out of me! Thanks goodness everyone had a cell and it actually worked inside the elevator since they have the tendency to not! Glad everyone got out OK
I know – it must have be so frightening. This is definitely one of the most important reasons to always carry your cell!