Can I Offer You a Lift?

After you.

Thanks. 

Where are you going?

The ground floor. I always end up on the ground floor, like Jacob’s Ladder in reverse. I do wish they’d fire me at the beginning of the day instead of the end. 

That sucks. What did you do?

Nothing at all, really. Rolling my eyes is what they said. For the last three years, I haven’t managed to get through my probationary period. 

That must make life precarious. What about a job in a call centre? They won't see your rolling eyes.

Oh, but they will. It’s not the customers I have a problem with. It’s those cultish meetings. Of course, I’m quite proud of myself for rolling my eyes to such devastating effect, but bills still have to be paid. I’m thinking of going into crime. 

What sort of crime?

I’m not sure. I’m not really clever enough for modern felony. Bank robbery’s out, since all money is virtual these days. I can’t be a hacker either. I still haven’t worked out how to send a photo while still on a call. Or take another call when already on a call. When they say, Just hang on a sec, I need to speak to so-and-so, I find myself in awe of the ingenuity. But you see, going to prison means a roof over my head and three meals a day. I might even be useful inside - teach someone to read, or knit.

You don’t strike me as a knitter.

No? I am very good at it, actually. The only problem I have is with sewing up the pieces at the end. I think there’s a metaphor in there somewhere. 

*****

Did you feel that shudder?

Yes, I think the lift’s stopped. Are you alright?

Think so. I’m just trying to work out if I’m claustrophobic. 

Well?

Nope. Don’t think so. It’s bright and beige in here, after all. It’s not a coffin or a pothole. There’s a button there. If I press it and nothing happens, I might decide to panic then. 

Oh, I wouldn’t worry. Most people don’t die in stuck lifts. I read about a woman in Brazil who was stuck for sixteen days, but fortunately she’d just done her shopping. In the US they have phones in their lifts. Of course, that’s probably old-fashioned these days. I expect they’re all run on the internet now, which seems risky to me. There’s nothing more reassuring than a ringing bell and a voice at the end of it. Go on, press the button. 

Yep, nothing happened. 

Are you always such a defeatist? I’m the one who’s been fired.

Sorry. I mean, logically I know we won’t be here for long. There must be people on the ground floor who’ve noticed —

Not necessarily. There are five other lifts they could take. 

Yes, but everyone’s going home now. We could be here all night. I can’t get any internet in here. Can you?

No. Ring the bell again. Perhaps it’s a remote bell. They shouldn’t mess with human wiring like that, should they? There will never be a time in the future when someone feels reassured by a silent bell. 

*****

I’m starting to imagine the lift shaft.

Try not to. 

And I really need to pee. 

Ah! Well, in my shopping bag I have, amongst other things, two bottles of red wine. Someone who’s fired as often as me gets the feeling about lunchtime, and starts to prepare for oblivion in advance. The food is microwave only, I’m afraid, although there is a half-chewed egg and cress sandwich in there somewhere. 

Are you suggesting we get pissed?

I am suggesting that if we drink a bottle, you can piss in it when it’s empty. 

Go on then. Please tell me it’s a screw cap.

Of course it is. I’m not made of money. 

*****

I’m feeling a bit pissed.

Then you’re a lightweight. 

Is that bottle empty yet?

Hang on a minute. It is now.

OK. Turn around?

I don’t need to be told twice. Don’t get stuck in there.

Very funny. 

Look on the bright side. We’ve achieved something biblical by turning red wine into white.

*****

I need a wee now. 

Well, that poses a more particular problem. 

You clearly haven’t seen the test tubes women get given at the doctor’s. 

There’s no way you can aim into the neck of that bottle. 

You’re right. I can’t. We need to summon the latent prepper gene. 

Meaning?

Meaning, what can I utilise to ease the scream in my bladder. As I see it, I have two options. What size are your feet? 

Are you seriously proposing to piss in my shoe? 

I said two options. I’ll need both of them.

Forget it. 

You know, it’s funny, but when you have a toothache you can sometimes think the pain away. It’s doesn’t work with a bladder. 

I’ve got it! Your shopping bag!

Good thoughts! It’s a bag for life, as well. 

Does it have any holes in it?

I don’t think so. We’ll soon find out. Turn around, would you?

Oh no. I mean I really want to watch —

You just rolled your eyes. I hope you get fired. And will you hum a tune.

Which tune?

Jeez, I don’t know. Colonel Bogie’s March.

How does that go?

I can’t whistle. Da Da, Da da da DA DA DA. Da Da, Da da da DA DA DA. 

Oh, the Hitler Has Only Got One Ball song?

That’s the one. 

*****

Jesus, that’s better.

What are you going to do if you need to go again? I still have a bottle left. 

I double-bagged, so I've got one left myself. We are both one piss away from ammonia poisoning. 

There’s a cheery thought. 

How long have we been here?

Two hours. Everyone will have gone home now.

No they won’t. There’s always some brown-noser somewhere. And then there’s security. 

When we get out, do you think we should sue?

That’s one way to earn a living. 

*****

Do you want to talk about current affairs? 

God no! I don’t want to discover I’m stuck in a lift with an unhinged progressive liberal. 

Or a stuffed-shirt conservative?

You see? I feel an argument brewing already. 

OK. So, what will you do now? What job, I mean?

I’m all out of ideas. Maybe a biscuit factory. I can’t imagine any cult-like tendencies on the custard cream line. 

I absolutely fucking hate garibaldis. 

Me too. Who eats that shit? 

Fig rolls?

Never eaten one. For some reason, I’ve never warmed to a fig. 

I like shortbread and Hobnobs …

You’re a dunker. 

*****

I’m starting to get a headache.

Then you need more wine. Can I offer you a £4.85 Shiraz, 11% abv. crushed from the grapes of a war zone? 

That sounds most appealing, ma’am. I thank you. 

*****

How long?

Three hours. 

Surely a security guard has noticed by now? 

Noticed what? He’s just going to see a floor number and assume that the lift hasn’t been called since it was last used. They’re not homing pigeons. 

I wonder what floors we’re stuck between. 

Ooh! A Game! I am being sarcastic.

I think you’re missing the entire point about sarcasm. Let’s play I-Spy. 

But there is literally nothing to spy!

I refer you to my previous comment about sarcasm. 

*****

For some reason, I have thought of something that happened to me when I was younger —

Listen, I think you’re a lovely woman. I couldn’t think of a better lift-companion than you. But I’m not prepared to endure a monologue about how your mother didn’t like you, or about how you were bullied at school —

I will have you know my mother loves me very much, and I was never bullied at school. This memory has popped into my head for no apparent reason, but there must be a reason why it’s there. Do you see? 

Go on then. Pass the wine. 

When I was eighteen, I temped at British Aerospace. It took me two buses to get there, and sometimes three to get back. This particular day was in late November. It was dark, wet and windy, and I was on the homeward stretch, looking forward to my mother’s lasagne. The trouble was, I couldn’t see a thing out of the window. My stop was not in my village - it entailed a mile walk to get home - and so I kept scrubbing at the steamy window to spot any landmarks, but there weren’t that many. It was a long, straight road with nothing much on either side. Anyway, the bus broke down, and we had to wait two hours for a mechanic. 

The bus was eventually fixed, and we rolled on our way. It was only then, when we immediately passed a pub with all the lights on, that I realised I had to ring the bell. The bus broke down literally a hundred yards from my stop, and I hadn’t noticed. It was uniquely embarrassing to get off only four seconds into our resumed journey. 

What did you do?

I took a bow and joined in the laughter. What else could I do?

Hmm. Has it occurred to you yet why this story had to be told? 

Not yet. Pass the wine. 

I mean, as stories go, it’s not on a par with finding the lost chord, or being haunted by a vengeful ghost … 

Oh, I can make up anything you like if it’s Story Hour you’re looking for. 

Please don’t. 

Missing the obvious! That’s what it’s about. We’re sitting here drinking wine and shooting the breeze, as it were, when we haven’t even tried to open the doors! 

Well, it did occur to me, but I didn’t fancy looking at a sooty brick wall. Very suggestive of being buried alive —

Whereas within this beige box we can imagine ourselves anywhere other than a lift shaft?

I can see how that rolling eyes thing might get annoying. 

I can get much worse than this. Please try to manually open the doors. Please. 

*****

Well, this isn’t embarrassing. 

No. Not at all.

Mind that one inch gap. 

Yes, careful now. 

Ma’am, may I introduce you to the ground floor. So far and yet so near. 

*****

Oh, it’s good to be out in the fresh air.

It is.

That’s a nice handbag. What’s in there?

Very funny. I’m looking for a bin. In the meantime I’ll just carry on swinging it. What did you do with the bottles?

I left them on the security desk. An early Christmas present. I never did like them. 

Bold. You still work there, after all. 

Actually I don’t. I was also fired today. Different company, same shit. 

Rolling eyes?

Not this time, although that’s been used. No, this time I was apparently overheard swearing at customers.

Ah, that old chestnut? Yes, I’ve been fired twice for that. Totally bogus, of course.

Agreed, but it’s also brilliant. The offended customers are always nameless and it puts you right in the thick of the old problem of trying to prove a negative. Quite inspired, really. 

Why have you stopped walking?

I would offer you a ride home but the car’s in the basement of the building and I don’t fancy taking the lift.

Also you have left two bottles of piss on the security counter.

And that. 

You’re also a bit drunk. 

That too. 

Um. I think we should go to the pub and google biscuit factories. 

Yes, the idea of wearing a hair net is growing on me. I draw the line at pink wafers, however.

Agreed. 

The bright lights of the Dog and Trumpet are beckoning. Would you care to take my arm?

I would like that very much.

Have you ever seen Casablan —?

Yes.

And do you agree with the very last line in the film?

Absolutely. Now, what are your thoughts on ginger nuts?