What's Not to Hate?

I love elevator trips for many reasons. Drama, horror, comedy, suspense are just some of the daily things I get to experience on those short rides. A moment ago, I lived through one such adventure, and decided this one must be remembered via written word.

It is rush hour. The building has 50 floors, versus four elevators. I get on at P3, only going up to the 11th floor. I stop at P2. The door opens. No one enters. Seconds pass; it feels like days. I peak my head out. I see some asshole look up from his mail and realize the door is wide open. I stare. He smiles and happily gets in. He fumbles with his FOB, chooses a floor, and we get going. Yey. We stop at P1. The door opens. Again, no one is coming in. WTF? Seconds, feeling like minutes, tick away. The door begins to close. A hand shoots up and stops the door from closing. Another moment passes and an asshole slooowly begins to wobble in, not once looking up from her Blackberry. She takes a rest by the buttons, takes a moment to finish her email, examines the floor options, and finally chooses one. I am bursting with excitement; we're on our way again! We stop at G (Lower Lobby). Door opens, I see Asshole 3 playing with his iPhone. Time passes. My hand starts rising to the 'Door Close' button, and the words 'Hurry the Fuck Up Next Time Asshole!' begin to raise to my lips. Asshole 3 stirs, examines the many dirty looks (mine the most intense), and leisurely walks on to the elevator. Asshole 3 needs a lift to level 2 (Main Lobby). Just one floor. Fourteen steps up.Young, fit, not carrying anything heavy, no obvious reason why he cannot use one of the four sets of staircases provided to him by the builders. It will forever remain a secret, in his asshole brain. We stop at 2. Asshole 3 takes a moment in preparation for his journey off the elevator. We all wave good-bye. Its been a blast. The three assholes and I have had time to bond. He begins moving forward...and gets rushed by fifteen people getting on. Took too long. The door begins closing. He desperately tries to push the 'Door Open' button, but fails to do so in time. Too bad, so sad. No escape now. He gets to take the rest of the trip up. We are finally coming up to the 11th floor. Thirteen people left on the elevator...8...9...I say 'Excuse Me' in advance, so that they know it is I, in the very back corner, who is trying to get off next...10...11...The door opens. No one moves. 'Excuse Me!'. The door begins to close. I do not make the same mistake as Asshole 3; instead of reaching for the 'Door Open' button, I start pushing people forward so that their useless bodies keep the door pried open for me. I see looks of shock and astonishment on their faces, but at this point, I don't give a flying fuck. The elevator starts buzzing and forcibly closing its door (where the fuck where you forcible-door-closer when assholes 1 through 3 were taking their time getting on?). I'm nearly there. I just want to get off this fucking elevator and avoid having to do the 'ride of shame' down with the previous asshole who failed to get off. The door is almost closed. Out of desperation, I pull an Indiana-Jones-style-running-somersault-kick-flip and gently tumble to the safety of my floor. I sit for a moment; catching my breath, reflecting, and swear NEVER to use the elevator during rush hour again. Not worth the twitching eye.