No, Really, I Have Never Stabbed Anyone.
February 10, 2011 § 1 Comment
There is some fierce, heated competition going on for spaces in the parking garage of my office building recently. I don’t fully understand why, but security guards are posted at all entrances and exits, and they do not respond if you smile at them. Or if you say hi to them. Or if you compliment them on their fancy-mouth-covering-muffler-thingys-that-must-keep-them-so-warm.
Leaving the office this evening, this happened:
I got on the garage elevator.
I held the elevator door for Random Dude.
I pressed 4.
I asked him, What floor?”
Random Dude said, “I’m all the way up on 9! So much competition for spots lately … it’s like a war zone!”
I pressed 9 and chuckled. But only a little.
As we arrived at 4, Random Dude said, “Wow, how’d you get a spot on 4?”
As I stepped of the elevator, I said, “I stabbed someone.”
I heard him laughing as the door closed. A little part of me is sad that he didn’t believe me, even for a half second.