Join me on a single elevator ride that's destined to go down in the annals of You Think I'm Lying, But I Swear on Britney Spears' Shaved Head That This is All True. (oh why does my elevator attract such horrible behavior?):
- Waiting for the elevator with a fellow in dirty white belly shirt and severely sagged white basketball shorts, resulting in a full view of not very clean tightey whiteys. I don't want to say "racing stripes" out loud ... but well ... yeah.
- When it arrived the doors opened to reveal a guy zipping up his pants. I was glad that I hadn't been in the elevator while they were unzipped. But it certainly didn't make me feel very good about getting in after him.
- Stopping at pool level we picked up a guy going back up to his apartment after swimming. Unfortunately he was using a pair of cut-offs as a swimming suit, and they sagged a liiiiiitle too low for decency.
- Finally exiting the elevator on the 16th floor I see my heavy-set Latino neighbor taking his trash to the trash chute in only a tee-shirt and briefs.
- At this point my eyes had been assaulted to such an extent that they spontaneously combusted, and I fumbled down the hall crying and swearing to forgo the elevator from now on. If I ever need to leave my island of sanity again I'll just repel down the side of the building instead. Much safer that way.
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