Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Elevator (Inter)Action

I got on the elevator at work yesterday morning. Late, as usual. Feeling guilty. I punched the #6 button just as another woman walked on. She hit button #3. She was an attractive African-American woman in a print dress, shortish and pudgy, her sunglasses perched on her slightly beehive-style, curled hair.

"It is SO hot," she announced. "Yesterday was worse."

"Yeah," I agreed.

"And I'm going through menopause, which makes it even worse."

Uh? (Marie thinks for a minute, says nothing.)

"At least we're not in Texas," she declared as the elevator stopped at 3. "Have a good day!" She smiled cheerfully and walked off, leaving me to mull my fortunes over.

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