I'm Stuck, I'm Stuck......

I'm Stuck, I'm Stuck....

Suzanne Marsh

Thunder boomed, lighting flashed, the rain came down. I grabbed my umbrella from under the seat of my Porsche. I hoisted the umbrella, did the normal juggling act; umbrella in one arm, the other with my briefcase and my presentation board. My pin stripped skirt was becoming wetter and wetter as the deluge continued unabated. By the time I got to the door of the building I looked like a drowned rat. I just hoped most of the board was dry. My office was located on the sixteenth floor. I notice the lights flicker; I did not think to much about that. I mean what could possibly happen? The building was one of the deco art buildings still standing; the elevator was as elderly as J. D. McDuffy the owner. The tenants had argued that the Otis elevator needed an overhaul at the very least. McDuffy, each year said the same: “Nope, if it was good enough for his Father it was good enough now.” All of the tenants reminded him that it was not up to code; for all the good that did.

I ran for the elevator otherwise it would be at least a ten minute wait. Running in stiletto shoes is not an easy thing to do. However, this meeting was going to be the biggest of my career in sales. I jumped on the elevator, once again the lights flickered. I decided it was nothing to worry about, it happens during thunder storms. I pushed the button for the sixteenth floor. The darn contraption jerked a few times; then began its climb. Suddenly, it came to an abrupt stop in between the second and third floor. I hit the red emergency button. Nothing, this was not good. Then I thought: 'I hope I am wrong but I bet the power went out, that is the only logical reason the elevator would have stopped between floors.

I do not as a general rule panic, I remained calm, I still had a half an hour before the presentation, that did not present a problem for me, heck even if I were a few minutes late it would not appear to look to awful. I stood near the back wall, going over every word of the presentation for Handy Andy's Tools. The name was a play on words, anyone could use their tools including little children, in fact that was what they were geared to. I developed a picture of a little red haired boy, standing next to his Daddy handing him the tools he asked for. It was rather Norman Rockwellish but cute. A half hour went by, I was becoming frustrated but no big deal. I was sure sooner or later the power would return and I would no longer be a prisoner in this darn old elevator. I was beginning to feel as if I were a prisoner in a contraption that would not let me out. I wasn't to the panic stage yet, but I was getting there rapidly.

I slid down the wall of the elevator, kicked off my stiletto heels and began to sing anything that came into my mind, anything with lots of choruses. Not that my singing was on tune but it would help to pass the time. I always enjoyed the Beatles Yellow Submarine, so I began singing that at the top of my lungs, hoping against hope someone would hear it. That did not happen. I went on singing for several hours ending with: One Hundred Bottles of Beer on the Wall. I used my cell phone to see the time, which was now roughly four hours and fifteen minutes but who was counting? I kept my cell phone on as I checked my briefcase hoping I had stuck some water in it along with my presentation. I read it and reread it until the papers were dog eared. I determined that when I got out of this contraption the first thing I was going to do was put my office on the ground floor of another building. My rent was over two thousand a month, now was as good a time as ever to think about this.

I began to imagine a newer office in a better building; the question was where? New York City rentals were at least ten thousand a month. I could picture a newer office, with modern furniture and pictures, an off white color for the entire office. I would have loved a bold red wall, but no, that would not be very conservative, most of my clients were conservative in the their dress and attitudes. I could dream about that red wall but conservative was the word of the times.

The sixth hour approached; nothing, no movement outside of the elevator doors or above or below where I was trapped. I hoped sooner or later someone would come to the conclusion that I was missing. The folks waiting for the presentation would certainly realize something was wrong, after all I was now missing for six hours. I tried not to panic, it wasn't dignified. I was hungry, thirsty. I needed to go to the ladies room. All these thoughts were running through my mind at an incredible rate of speed. I closed my eyes maybe a nap would help, couldn't hurt right? I closed my eyes. I began to dream about a meeting with Mr. J. D. McDuffy. I could see myself standing there in front of him, my hands shaking in ire. I informed him I would be moving to a different building. The fact that I missed the biggest meeting of my career thanks to the damn elevator and the electric going off. McDuffy simply informed me to: “suck it up buttercup”. I gave him a hard right cross punch and woke myself up with a start. I would not realize it till later that I gave myself a black eye.

I was awake now, I was in the panic mode. I began screaming at the top of my lungs and banging on the door with my stiletto heels:

“I AM STUCK, I AM STUCK, I AM STUCK!!!!!!”

Just at that very moment, I heard the elevator door begin to moan, a male voice yelled down:

“This is the Fire Department, we will have you out in a jiffy.”

Somehow a jiffy did not seem fast enough. The fire fighter who descended into the elevator turned out to be a very handsome man. He helped me out of the elevator and into the shaft. He informed me that I needed to leave my shoes off. We began the climb up to the fourth floor where three other firemen waited.

I was safe after that. My presentation was a success, as it turned out the client could not go anywhere. After that I made arrangements to rent in another building on the ground floor. Just for the record I have a bright bold red wall. Dreams do come true. Just for the record I married the fireman who saved me.