The Hunk Who Rescued Me
(Not the actual Hunk. Picture of actual Hunk pending after I delivered the muffins)
It was a nice Wednesday afternoon. The wind was blowing, and the temperature finally became more tolerable. It was after 6:30 pm, and I decided to go home. I was in a pleasant mood. I passed by the produce store, got a few boxes of blueberries thinking the Husband, who was still at work, will certainly appreciate my effort and my good mood.
Got into my apartment building, saw that someone posted a big note to say all elevators are out of service. A prank, I thought to myself. This has never happened before. My stomach groaned. The security people didn't say anything. I pressed the button, and elevator #1 opened its (now I consider sinister) mouth/door to graciously accept its willing prey. Another girl/prey came in, pressed 16 while I pressed 22. The ride was smooth and as usual, the girl and I stared at the door. Then
I called the lobby with my cell, they said they are getting help. Help Schmelp. Bored (and possibly a bit anxious), I started to press the alarm button which let out a clear, clean riiiiiinnnnnngggg. For some reason, it's soooo comforting to hear that ring. Then that got boring too...so I called 911 to see what would happen. You know, it's one of those numbers that your fingers always itch to dial (esp. when I was a kid), but you don't because oftentimes it's not the appropriate situation. This time, I dialed. 9-1-1. YEAHHHHHH! "This is 911 what is your emergency?" "I am STUCK IN A FREAKIN' ELEVATOR ON THE 16TH FLOOR PLEASE COME SAVE US NOWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!" (Almost wanted to throw in the idea that I also suffer from hypertension, high cholesterol, on Plavix, perhaps throw in diabetes, manic-depressive and suicidal to see if that will make this even more of a priority---for the record, of course I don't have any of those.)
After a few minutes, I heard sirens. We live just a few blocks from the fire station and we hear sirens all the time. Annoying we always think of those noises. But now, they are possibly be the sweetest sound I've ever heard in my life. WEE WOO WEE WOO...there are two of them. THEY ARE SENDING TWO FIRE ENGINES TO RESCUE US!!! Speaking of fire engines, you can't help but think of the fire fighters. Now, calmed down quite a bit with the thought, I started to fantasize about my rescuer. Will he look like Hasselhoff? Or that guy from Law & Order SVU? Now what about that Fabio-looking dude...Then someone brought me out of my daydreaming (yes, in a hot stuffy elevator I can daydream too). They were yelling "Anyone there?" THE HUNKS...ugh...THE FIREFIGHTERS ARE HERE!!!!!!!!!
They wedged open the elevator door with their bare, strong and muscular arms (well, they also have tools I think but that's not the point here), and we soon realized we were in between floors. Awful...no...AWESOME! Now they will have to scoop me up to rescue me!!! (How boring to just WALK OUT of the elevator) I gave them my bags and my blueberries...gave them my hands...and in no time I was up standing on the 16th floor, with 5 hunks...ugh...firefighters!!! Although, my first reaction was...ugh..."Can I have my blueberries back?" Very much like how Hillary Swank forgot to thank her (now ex-) husband when she won the award. "Ugh...yeah...thank you so much really really."
Then we all proceeded to the freight elevator and they sent me off on the 22nd floor. One of the firefighter actually asked me where I got my tan! WOOT! Then the other, shorter, firefighter asked him, "So...how are your GRANDCHILDREN?" So I asked them if they want my blueberries as a token of appreciation, and one of them (the Hunk who saved me) said "No, but blueberry muffins would be nice."
So now, I am sitting here looking for blueberry muffin recipes. I hope I have enough ingredients, as I sure as hell am not going down the elevator again until tomorrow morning.
As for the other girl, she must think I am a freak.