Phew! If you've never been trapped in an elevator, trust me, you don't want to be. I got stuck in one today in DC's subway system, called Metro. Given Metro's reputation for careless accidents, I half-expected the elevator to explode or perhaps fly through the roof and soar about the sky, a la Willy Wonka. The elevator started going up, but stopped after about 1 foot. When I realized I was stuck, I pressed the down button. Nothing. The up button. Nothing. Door open, door close, up, down. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing.
It finally dawned on me that I was trapped. I pressed the alarm bell. Nothing. There was another button for "emergency call." I didn't quite understand the difference between this and an alarm bell, but you don't question such things when trapped in an elevator, you just blindly press buttons, hoping something will set you free. The emergency call button appeared to be some sort of silent alarm channeled directly to Batman's secret residence, because it did absolutely nothing.
I began pressing it and simultaneously yelling out "Hello?", thinking, rather naively if you know anything about the ineptitude of Metro employees, that there might actually be somebody monitoring for communications coming from patrons trapped in elevators. Nobody answered.
At this point I began to wonder how airtight an elevator is and how much air I might have left. I could hear a ventilation fan running so I figured that meant I at least had fresh air coming in. I pressed the alarm bell, which did trigger a bell. I let it ring for several minutes. I didn't hear anybody or anything that indicated anyway was aware that I was stuck in the elevator. The location of the elevator is down a hall and far removed from the booth where a Metro employee sits. Thinking about this, I realized it was possible that a) the employee could not hear the bell, b) the employee could hear the bell but did not care, and/or c) the employee could hear the bell but had no idea what it meant and was hoping it stopped so they could get back to napping. I wondered if I would be spending the night in the elevator.
I then wondered if I could budge open the door. I first tried to pry them open. I couldn't move them at all. But there were two panels making up each door. I budged on the inside panel and the door started to move. Just a little. And then I was able to pry open the entire door. Only to be met with the closed outer door.
I tried prying open the outer door, but it was closed up tight and didn't move. There were no inner panels to budge on so I was stuck. Just then I heard voices. I looked out the tiny, dirty elevator window and I could see 2 Metro employees. But they weren't there to help me. They just happened to be walking by. "Hey! Hey!" I yelled. They finally heard me and came back. One guy tried to budge open the outer door, but he couldn't move it. After several tries, he gave up. "Hold on, we're getting somebody to help you," he said. And then he disappeared. What?!
That left me to continue to pry open the outer door while simultaneously using my feet and one arm to hold open the inner door. Which kept trying to close. At one point, a recorded voice came over the elevator's intercom and said "Please allow the doors to close."
"Fuck you," was my response.
After several minutes, a man's voice came over the intercom, "Hello, sir in the elevator."
"Yes?" I said.
"Sir?"
"Yes? Hello. Yes?!" I yelled, hoping he would hear. I wanted to move closer to wherever the intercom was, but I had no idea where the speaker was and I didn't want to risk allowing the doors to close, fearing that I might not be able to pry them open again.
"Sir?"
The damn intercom didn't even work. The emergency call button had probably been installed by Fisher-Price.
Another Metro employee appeared at the elevator door. He told me that the fire department was on its way. Apparently, only the fire department has the power to override the elevator and open the door. That is perhaps the stupidest thing I've heard all month (and I will point out that I live in DC, where Congress is located, so I hear some pretty stupid stuff just about every day).
At about this time, I noticed that the light on the elevator buttons had switched from up (my original direction) to down. That was important because when I was frantically pressing buttons before, nothing had happened at all. I wondered if I dared allowed the doors to close, would the elevator think it had arrived at its destination and open the doors normally?
Thinking the fire department would soon be axing or crowbarring their way inside soon anyway, I let the doors close. The elevator started moving down, ever so slowly. And then, just like that, poof, the doors opened.
When I finally got to the street, a fire engine was arriving, with sirens blaring and lights flashing.
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