Otis Holds A Surprise On The Inside!

Today I got coffee for my boss because they sweetened her iced tea when she first bought it. Oh and they put too much ice. In her iced tea. So on my way to buy an unsweetened, black, venti, lightly-iced Iced Tea from Starbucks, I grabbed some carrots and hummus and ran onto Otis the Elevator. There I ran into a nice older Haitian man from an office above as I was chewing these delightful goodies of the earth. He laughed at my silliness (I think that was the image I was projecting) and asked in his lovely accent if there was a party going on in our office. I replied "Oh no, we're just eating all the time." This prompted him to offer me some sage advice in that utterly lovely accent of his, as he looked me up in down in my somewhat cleavage-revealing (on accident, I can't help it!) dress, "Do not eat too much. You will get fat. Ho ho ho ho!"

Thank you Jesus.

On another note, I have a strong tendency to flirt with Starbucks boy baristas.

What A Pisser

Did you notice how I've subtly changed my blog from worthless (but amusing!) content to overtly sexual youtube videos and the occasional comic? I was going to say semi-sexual youtube vids, but they are so not semi. nom nom nom.

But alas, the current situation requires me to update you on critical state of Otis the Elevator. No longer can I hide behind other people's witticisms and sexiness to cover up the lack of mine. But now I can reinvigorate my hobby of using words like: apropos! New fun word: portmanteau.

Poor Otis, his condition has been deteriorating since I first spoke of my daily companion. Unlike choo-choo trains, Otis can't find inspiration from "I think I can." He just falls and dies.

A little while back I strolled in after a satisfying lunch, minding my own business. But then I was jarred from my reverie of tasting the remnants of yumness in my teeth when I noticed the maintenance man conversing on the walkie-talkie (portmanteau!!!) and the security guard with a look of concern on his face.

Our maintenance man is a Popeye-esque kinda guy, complete with a white pant-shirt combo and bulging muscles indicating how his time is spent outside of work. Today he had the two doors of the first car forcibly pried open (probably using his bulging manly man muscles instead of a crow bar) like the legs of his first (and last) lover. The only words I caught when he reached for his walkie-talkie were, "yeah the cars came crashing down again."*****
Before I could even react, I was quickly ushered into the last car by the security guard. ALL.BY.MYSELF.

At this point, I should mention that 1. my imagination is not under control and 2. I do believe in ghosts. Do NOT put me in an elevator BY MYSELF when I hear that the other ones just died. Not only did the car I was put into smell like gasoline, it skipped past floors 3, 5, and 11. Which are probably haunted. Like the elevators. Did you know this building was made in 1912? It's definitely haunted. What a pisser.

*****Otis made skyscrapers possible by using a special mechanism to lock the elevator in place should the hoisting ropes fail.

Otis the Elevator: An Introduction

The great thing about my job, although I get paid shit, is the fact that it's in the Loop. So I can run around pretending to be baller, handing out my business card (which, despite my shitty salary, is all-paid and printed with raised lettering...niiiiiiiiice) and talking about working in the high-falutin' fancy Chicago Loop. And when I meet someone from undergrad, they think I'm the shit and I give no reason for them to think otherwise.

But in reality, I work in what our accountant affectionately refers to as the "pocket of (bleep bleep) ghetto," or the last remaining stronghold of shadiness in the Chicago Loop. We have crack dealers and such just chillin' in front of our old-ass building, where two homeless women consistently fight each other for cigarettes (I can set my clock to it). It's a building so old it used to have a different address when the streets were set up differently. An address they never bothered to take OFF the building. Accessorizing this old-ass construction are equally old-ass elevators that have never been updated and are curiously missing their certificates of inspection.

And it's these elevators that add to the daily spice of my life. Including, but not limited too - crashing to the ground, holding suspicious odors, providing billboard space for local gangs, and possibly being haunted. Everyday, I hesitate before getting on those harbingers of death but alas, I work on the 17th floor leaving me no option. But No Worries! "The company [Otis Elevators] pioneered the development of the safety elevator, invented by Otis, which used a special mechanism to lock the elevator car in place should the hoisting ropes fail. Otis made skyscrapers possible by providing safe mechanical transport to upper floors" Yes. Safe.

Ahh, wikipedia. Such a great source of reassuring information.