The other day I was doomscrolling (#guilty) when I came across a headline urging everyone to avoid elevators. Finally! Of all the places and situations I’ve sadly shunned since March, this is one I’ll happily dodge. Of course, there’s a story behind my elevator aversion…
About six and a half years ago, I arrived at a Maryland hotel with my two older daughters (then ages three and five) and waaay too much luggage. After a comically long check-in process (something about my husband forgetting to add my name to the reservation?), we headed up to our room. As I exited the elevator—arms laden with luggage—I blindly reached for my three-year-old’s hand. (You see where this is going, right?) “Hurry up!” I snapped when I turned around and saw her still standing at the back of the elevator. Suddenly, the doors shut. I screamed and started punching the up and down buttons in rapid succession. When I heard the elevator chime for our floor, I thanked God and breathed a sigh of relief; but when the doors opened, the elevator was empty. I broke out in a cold sweat. This was not good. Just then, a bellhop walked by and saw my panicked expression. When I explained the situation, he asked me what button my daughter might have pushed. “I don’t know—she’s three!” I wailed. My five-year-old burst into tears, convinced she’d never see her sister again. As the bellhop called down to the front desk my mind started racing…the hotel was at least 20 stories high—she could be anywhere! What if some crazy hotel guest snatched her or she wandered into a cleaning closet? What if she left the hotel? How on earth would we find her? Should we call the police? Should we start a grid search?
After what felt like an hour, the stairwell doors opened and my long-lost daughter emerged, clutching the hand of the woman at the front desk who had checked us in. She explained that she knew something was amiss when she saw the elevator doors open into lobby and my daughter walk out alone, so she kept her at the front desk until the bell hop called. I ran over and hugged them both. Then we grabbed our things and headed to our hotel room, where I immediately raided the mini bar (just kidding—sort of).
And that, my friends, is why I’ll always be #teamstairs. Can you blame me?