For the second time that day he smiled at me. That awfully cute smile that had successfully sent me straight to my own version of the seventh heaven. Yet being the scaredy cat that I am, I was only able to reply with a slight grin on my face as I passed him in the direction of my own locker at the gym. I then gave a sigh. A mixture of relief and excitement. What shall I do now, dear God what shall I do?
And suddenly I heard a woman’s voice walking towards my direction. Somebody was talking on the phone and the voice grew louder. Wait. This is a men’s locker room. Why did they let this woman in? Then before long, appeared this wiry man, busy carrying what appeared to be an oversized gym bag with a mobile phone attached to his right ear.
“You know they should learn the etiquette of using a baby stroller in an elevator!” he screamed to his phone.
This happened to be the same man with the raspy nagging woman’s voice I’ve just heard earlier. His hair was permed in the highlights of dark copper golden blonde, dark ash blonde and a tinge of light auburn shades. (Don’t ask me how I remember these things!)
“Overseas they would carry the baby in one hand and fold the stroller so they’d be able to put more people in the elevator!” s/he continued.
Oh no. Logically, that would be essentially against the purpose of creating any baby stroller. They should liberate you. Not the other way around. Later on I promised meself to google this “etiquette” that he was explaining to the sorry respondent of his phone call.
“So this lady… She just shoved it right in and hit my ankle so hard I would yelp by the wheels. I was just having the most agreeable coffee downstairs at Starbucks. And this bitch, she didn’t even say sorry or what so eva! And you know that I wasn’t wearing anything but this little thong number from Tod’s” s/he bragged.
Then I saw the problem: His/ her little princess ankle got hit by the seemingly hardcore-all season’s-terrain-rubber-wheel of a baby stroller. I would be irritated if somebody hit my ankle with the supermarket cart or the metallic protruding footrest of a wheelchair. And alas, the before mentioned lady didn’t say sorry.
“I will tell the mall to forbid people using any baby stroller in the elevators ever again!” s/he said steamingly.
And what? Make them use the stairs or the escalators? Risking the precious life of the child cradling in the contraption? Why can’t people be reasonable? Shit happens everyday. The highlighted princess shall say something to the shoving lady if s/he was so mad.
“So when I left, I gave her the nastiest look she’ll have to remember forever!” s/he concluded.
By that time I was done finishing my self in the gym’s locker to get back to the office. Ms. Complaints there hadn’t yet brought any end to his/her ventilating to the other side of the phone.
Walking out on the corridor I saw Smile was still sipping his coffee at the lounge area.
“How was your baby stroller?” I grinned at him with joy.
“Aha! You heard that too?” he said.
The baby stroller pick-up line did give me a chance to get to know Smile better.
“Oh here she comes…” Smile said warning me of an impending Queen’s wrath.
“I am even gonna sue them and make them pay for what she did to me earlier!!” s/he demanded.
Swiftly I then rotated my gaze to her/him, which startled the little monster.
Excuse me:
1. The public shall prioritize people on wheelchairs or having baby strollers in the “public” elevators.
2. Use the stairs if you just need to head one flight up or down
3. Give room for the disables too. Oh wait, you are one of them: People get hurt everyday in one degree or another. But you! You are disabling your heart to give such a trivial matter to a rest!
So when I left, I gave her/him the nastiest look that s/he will never forget.
Eat my dust! (Oh, not you Smile darling…)
Prof. Utonium
Copyright: Opening Image. Corbis © 2010
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