Living on a high floor can be nice. The views are good, people ooh and ah when you tell them your address but there are downsides too. Not least of which is the offensive rent.
The weather has been nice lately, so I decided I would go for a walk. You know, get out and be with the people who don’t live on high floors; mingle with the other humans and such. So off I went.
As I was nearing the elevator, I could hear it. I ran, trying to press the button only to hear it rush past, evidently carrying people who live on higher floors than me. Damn.
I stand there and wait. And wait. Oddly, repeatedly pressing the Down button did little to shorten my wait. Still no elevator. “No doubt it’s all those mouthbreathers on the second floor…” “Screw this, I’m taking the stairs. It’ll be like a warm up for my walk. Here we go.”
Everything was going fine for the first half dozen floors or so. Soon then I noticed my feet were getting slightly out of sync with the stairs. “What the hell is this? Pay attention!”
Now you should keep in mind that the stairs seem to be repainted every three months like clockwork. No one uses the stairs but they get a fresh coat of this high gloss battleship grey. You can’t see the edge of the stairs after a while, it’s just a big glossy blur.
Given that I’m writing this, two assumptions can be made:
- I survived to tell the tale
- My blogwell is just about dry
7 comments ↓
okay, so you made it down the stairs - given the floor you live on - that is in deed a feat.. so what happened when you actually mingled with the village people…
Don’t get me wrong, I liked the post. I found it quite exciting and was sitting on the edge of my couch as I read every word.
But from one blogger to another, if the blogwell is getting a bit dry, do what I do. Lie.
sweet feathery moses… Ardie, if something happened would I be writing about walking down the stairs? I think not…
No, my life is lame and the well is dry. So I’m going to take Biff’s advice and just start to lie. There’s really no other option. I never believed that he’s been in a cave… Well just the one that he’s been living in outside of Creston…
dearest midbach, nephew and all that, i was aware that you had nothing going on and were writing a storey, my interest in what happened next was just a natural progression as a reader - you write the stuff - we read it. As to whether or not your well is dry quite frankly is not really my concern. As for biff, all cave dwellers tell stories too…. so, what happened with the village people … get on with it… lie or do whatever you need to… perhaps just get a life outside the blog — you know, get on the street, mingle….
what? no thoughts on the big fat cheater schumacher?
Midbach,
Aredie is right. Get on with it.
I must admit, I did rather enjoy the part about the ‘mouth breathers’. lol
People who are pissed should hold their pissed opinions