Quiet time.

I've been having the worst luck in elevators. Usually, I use my morning drive to listen to my ipod and chill out before I get on a giant hamster wheel at work, and commence with being therapeutic. I use every minute up until the time I flash my badge at the key pad by the front door, to be in my own world. Usually my descent from the fifth floor of the parking garage is a solo kind of time, or I share the ride with other like minded colleagues who keep to themselves and abide by all elevator etiquette. Yesterday morning I was surprised to find a 2 year old with a pacifier and her highly strung, overincorporative, loud talking beast of a mother. [I was carrying in sunflowers for Beth on her birthday] OH SABRINA, LOOK AT THOSE LOVELY FLOWERS! LOOK HOW PRETTY THEY ARE [sabrina isn't looking] OH YOU ARE PUSHING ALL THE ELEVATOR BUTTONS [I inwardly cringe and silently curse out the toddler for making us stop at every fucking floor between 5 and 1] LOOK AT YOU PUSHING ALL THOSE BUTTONS OH! THE DOOR IS OPENING [child mumbles something unintelligible] MOMMY CAN'T UNDERSTAND YOU- GIVE MOMMY YOUR SISSY [sissy= pacifier, inexplicable, I know]. Now, I know the expectation is that I am a child friendly human being, but Sabrina and her Beast-mother were well on their way to ruining my freaking morning. I stood on principle and stared stonily at them, rushing off the echoing elevator the moment the doors opened. I could still hear the mother inanely yelling/narrating her child's wondrous accomplishments even though I was a halfway down the block.

This morning I got on the elevator by myself after fishing my pager and clip out from under the Buick parked next to my car. Of course, when it fell out of my hands, it bounced to the concrete directly centered under said Buick. The satin on the knees of my pastel pink Sanctuary pants gave me the finger, and I deserved it. So anyway, I get in the elevator and the doors are starting to shut when in walks a mammoth woman, wearing ill fitting clothes and ALREADY talking to me as if I've 1) known her for years and 2) been in an ongoing conversation with her. She loudly announces she parked next to a Hummer [Why me? I don't give a shit. Quiet, you mammoth, socially awkward, elevator intruder!] and without taking a breath goes on to say how Gov. Schwarzenegger has hummers but justifies it by modifying them to be "green." This continues all the way down to the first floor. If I could have seen my own face, I'm sure my eyes would have been googley, my mouth hanging open. I didn't even respond to her, I just had nothing. She was still talking to me as the doors opened and I bolted, going in the opposite direction.

Along the lines of wacky experiences with strangers, I went to the Red Door spa last week, and met a deaf/mute bikini waxer. Not even kidding a little bit. She mimed directions to me and wrote them on a pad of paper. I knew the drill, but was definitely amused/shocked by her miming wiping sweat from her brow and giving me the thumbs up when we were done! At least there was no need for awkward and erroneous chit chat during a pretty uncomfortable and limited social situation.

Alright, back to my to do list.