Elevator music

Jamie and I, and some of the Messy Crew, we were at the Minnesota Newspaper Association convention at the recently multi-million dollar renovated Sheraton in Bloomington. Of course, there were the usual convention type activities. You know what I mean, meetings, seminars, lunches, dinners and socializing, brain storming, idea exchanges, tips of the trade and more socializing.

So there we were, Jamie and I, late (if you can believe that!) for a mandatory rehearsal and sound check for a skit were were to perform later that evening. Jamie and I boarded elevator number one on the 12th floor “going down” to the second floor. As usual we walked into the elevator and continued our conversation.

We weren’t moving.

“Did you push the button?” I asked Jamie.
“Yes,” she said.

We still weren’t moving.

I pushed another button. One floor down.
Still not moving.
I pushed one floor up.
No good.

“Jamie, we are stuck,” I said.

The look on her face was a combination of disbelief, amazement, bewilderment, confusion, perplexity, shock, calmness and indifference.

We pushed the call button in the elevator to call for help. We were connected to Charlotte, who worked somewhere downstairs I imagine. Safe. Sitting at a desk.

I also called Kevin from my cell phone explain. “Um, Kevin? This is Viv. Jamie and I are stuck in the elevator.”

His reply: “Viv, I would like to believe you but I don’t. Get down here. You are late.”

So, I put the phone over by the call box and said, “Hello, OnStar? My boss is on the phone and doesn't believe me that we are stuck. Will you verify that with him, please?”

Kevin must have believed us then. He hung up. Or I simply lost a signal. I did have four bars on my phone, however.

“Should we be sitting down, Charlotte?” Jamie asked. “I mean we are on the 12th floor, and if we fall, it might be better if we were sitting down.”

We were laughing and making jokes about it. The carpet needed vacuuming we told Charlotte. And we could not hear any elevator music.

“I have contacted someone on my staff and they will get you out soon,” Charlotte said. “Do you want me to stay on the line with you until you are out?”

“Well, yeah,” Jamie said. “Isn’t that what you do? Like 911? This is sort of a 911 situation you know.”

We continued to make jokes with Charlotte and talk. Good thing we didn’t need to use the bathroom.

The Elevator just started moving after a little while. That was a little unnerving. We were a little unsure if we were plummeting to our deaths or if we would be placed gently back on floor number two.

We landed safely and the elevator was promptly closed for repairs. Hmmm....

Later that evening, after our performance ended and we abruptly headed for the hotel lounge for a shot of liquid, ummm, encouragement(?) after the fact, we noticed about five Bloomington firefighters standing outside the elevators. Elevator number two.

We wondered what was going on, but I was not in reporter mode. More important to us at that particular moment was getting to the lounge. And were still in full costume. Wigs, odd clothes and all.

We took the escalator down one floor and found about half-dozen more fire fighters standing there.

I couldn’t take not knowing. I had to ask.

“Ma'am, there are 11 people stuck in that Elevator. Been in there 45 minutes. You are going to have to stand back so we can evacuate them,” a firefighter told me. I am pretty sure I disliked being called "ma'am" at that particular moment.

The people all got out safely and nobody was hurt. I bet at least one of those women had to go to the bathroom. What if asomebody, before boarding the elevator thought to her self, “I probably should “go,” but I will just wait and go when I get up to my room.” That could have not been pleasant.

It is kind of unfair, however. Jamie and I were stuck in elevator number one for probably 12 minutes and we didn’t get a dozen cute firefighters to rescue us.

Apparently, the multi-million dollar renovation did not include elevator upgrades. And there wasn’t even bad elevator music for our listening pleasure.