Someone once asked me “What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done?” I don’t know. It’s hard to limit it to just one thing. That’s kind of how I started my list of things I won’t do three times. There are however also dumb things that in all likelihood will happen only once. Most likely because the situations or events leading up to them aren’t likely to ever occur again. The following is just one example.
I was visiting a customer a bunch of years ago. I was on site for a week. I flew out to see them on Sunday so I could be on site first thing Monday morning. My flight home was late Friday afternoon. I’m never too thrilled about 6 days away from home, but it goes with the territory sometimes. The customers’ office is in an annex building, on the backside of the “new” building. His office is up on the fifth floor.
When I got onsite Monday morning, I was given a set of cryptic directions on how to reach the annex. I’m told that I’ll know when I’m in the right place when I get to the wooden elevator. Seems the Annex is in the old part of the building. The Annex is wood framed construction and even has an elevator with a wooden (or at least wood lined) car. As I headed off on my quest to find this relic of a thing I’m told not to worry. Oh sure, the elevator is old, and it smells funny and it creaks and groans when it moves and it’s really slow. But most of the time, it’s reliable. Great just what I needed, an elevator that might or might not get me to where I’m going.
So I headed off to find the customers’ office. Sure enough, I found the Annex building and eventually the elevator in question. Oh yeah, it was wooden alright. I bet you drew a mental picture of Mahogany inlays and ornate carvings. Boy were you off base. This thing looked like it had been whittled by Jed Clampett. I mean really, come on now this can't be it, can it? Is this REALLY an elevator? It was more like someone slapped together a couple of sheets of old plywood that had been lying around and tied a rope to the top. And it smelled funny. I’m not even going to try to guess where that smell came from. Crimanny. Was I about to get on this thing or what? Was this a joke? I was not going to climb five flights of stairs lugging all the junk I had with me, so after a short prayer, I jumped on. What the heck no guts no glory.
This elevator was a trip. Rattle barely described the ride. I think the astronauts atop a Saturn 5 rocket had a smoother ride. Oh well, it’s only to the fifth floor.
All week long as I rode this elevator, I marveled at its condition and was more than a little amazed that it hadn’t been shut down. As I rode up in down in this thing, I started noticing little things. Things like: only some of the floor lights work, the lean rail was only barely attached and when it reached it's destintion it only kind of lined up with the floor. Sometimes close enough IS good enough. One of the things that really catches my eye is the panel with the floor buttons. This panel looked like it had been around a while. It was more than just a little worn. You could tell the popular floors, the numbers were all but worn off the buttons. All the screws holding the panel on looked like they have been screwed and unscrewed more than the original design specification called for. I think everyone has seen what I’m talking about, slotted screws with the slots all mashed and uneven from years of screwdriver abuse. There was one screw in particular that really drew my attention. This screw was different from all the rest. It was easily ten times the size of the others and it looked like there was a broken piece of metal in the slot. It looked like someone had used too small a screwdriver tightening it down the last time and broke the tip off. How stupid is that? How could some maintenance person use the wrong sized tool and break off the tip, then just leave the broken tip behind?
For the remainder of the week, all I could think about as I rode in the elevator was that broken screwdriver tip stuck in that mismatched screw in the button panel. Eventually, I started wondering what it would take to remove the broken tip from the screw. I ran my finger over the screw and sure enough, I could feel the rough, broken edge of the tip.
Finally Friday rolled around and it was time to go home. I piled onto the elevator, exhausted, and lugging three computer bags. As the doors started to close, I started to day dream. This trip was long, the days were long, I had a long flight ahead of me and I was tired. I was thinking about my trip home and no longer really paying attention to anything else. I started running my finger over the large screw again and began to wonder, just how difficult would it be to just flick that broken piece of metal out? I kind of scratched at the piece with my fingernail. The nail caught an edge, and the piece moved. I thought to myself, “I bet I can get that out of there”. So I tried again. Sure enough, this time I could see it move. Now a little more of the edge is exposed. GREAT! This piece of metal has been bugging me all week. Now I just knew I could flick it out of there. I thought to myself “What the heck, no one else is going to remove it.” So I hooked my fingernail under the broken piece of metal as best I could and flicked it as hard as I could. When I did, I could feel the piece move, and it moved a lot. EXCELLENT, I’m going to get it out of there. So I hooked the piece again and gave it one last flick.
As soon as I flicked the piece of metal this second time, something happened that I wasn’t quite prepared for. Out of all the possible eventualities I never dreamed this would happen. I never even saw this one coming. It never entered my mind even once. Not for one split second did I give this possibility even the briefiest of consideration. This time when the piece moved, there was a snap, and then darkness. The lights went out! And I am talking DARK dark. No light at all. No emergency light, no light seeping in from a crack in the door, nothing. Now I’m standing in the dark and I’m thinking “Oh Shit, that wasn’t a broken piece of metal, that was the light switch.” YIKES! I found out afterwards that they used to make switches like that so that people wouldn’t play with the lights. It was a safety thing. A technician could easily turn on/off the lights using the tip of whatever tool they happened to be holding. Oooops. Boy did I find that out too late. Now I’m standing in a pitch black elevator trying to quickly figure out how to get the lights back on before somebody notices that they are off.
I had about two seconds to formulate my plan. Not enough time unfortunately. About two seconds after the lights went out, the elevator stopped and the doors opened. When they did, I saw a group of people waiting to get on. It looked like a Mother with a child in a stroller and possibly a grandmother. I can’t be sure. As soon as I saw them, I looked at the floor and quickly walked by, trying hard as I could not to be seen. As I reached the door to the hallway, I turned my head just in time to see the women and stroller get into the pitch black elevator car. As they did, I could hear one of them utter “Well I don’t know. That man just got off.” And with that, the doors closed.
I flew home that night in both abject terror and in hysterics. I was convinced the customer would know I was the one that shut off the lights and stranded a group of woman in the elevator. I had convinced myself that first thing Monday morning I would get a call to go see the Boss. Then, that would be that. I'd be gone. How would I explain this in my next job interview? "Yeah, I was forced to leave that last job because I stranded a family of three in a dark elevator all weekend." I just couldn't see how I was going to turn that one into a resume builder or one of my strong points. By the same token, I found it hysterically funny. It was all so innocent and it happened so fast. You should have seen the looks on those peoples faces as I stepped out of the blackness. Can you picture it? There I was in my best navy blue suit, white shirt, red tie, black wing tip shoes, carrying very offical looking cases of who knows what appearing mysteriously from this darkened. elevator car. The only things missing were a whift of smoke and some dark sun glasses. I could see the looks of wonder and awe on their faces as I whisked past them trying not to be noticed. I can close my eyes even now and picture those looks.
I waited well over 10 years before I finally told this story to anyone. I figured ten years was the statute of limitations on this level of stupidity. I no longer worked for that company anyway. What could they do to me? And besides, those women had to be out of the elevator by then. How mad could they still be?
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