Stuck in the Lift

Stuck in the Lift ©

By

Michael Casey

I was in a hurry, I had finally got my chance, the editor had a few minutes to spare, he said somebody had persuaded him to give me a listen, just a few minutes. But I had to be there at 11sharp. Only the lift had broken down and I was stuck in the lift. I hated confined spaces but this one was a glass lift, and I hated heights even more. So I would have panicked, but luckily as I cursed I noticed a wheelchair in the corner, I hadn’t noticed it when I got in the lift as I was rehearsing in my head what to say for my Elevator Ad.

Important people always say NO by default and never listen, so I had to get it straight in my head, so I had not noticed the youth in the wheelchair sat there. Sorry I stumbled, but I’m late for the most important chance in my life. Really she asked with genuine interest. I explained how I’d been writing for years, over 30 years now and that I’d got a chance to talk to an editor and maybe just maybe I’d get an occasional column.

Would you sell your soul to get a column? She asked. Well some people don’t think we have souls, I replied. Would you sleep with somebody to get your column? You are very direct, how old are you? 23 she replied with a smile. Well the situation has not arisen, so I don’t know. Come on we are all alone in this lift and nobody will ever know, we have to pass the time before we are rescued. Ok, I would sleep with somebody to get my column. But she’d have to be pretty, or at least be able to hold a decent conversation. So you have standards before you prostitute yourself, she teased.

Look we are stuck in this lift and to be honest I am very scared of these heights, and you sound like my priest. Well as I am your priest laughed the girl in the wheelchair, would you sleep your way to the top. No. But if I was forced to sleep with somebody to get my column, I might do it once, but then feel guilty for the rest of my life. Would you sleep with me to get your column asked the girl in the wheelchair? Look this is getting too mad. Answer your priest. You are very pretty, but you know that already, you must have a boyfriend already. So you wouldn’t need to ask such a thing.

You really think I’m pretty. Yes, that’s so obvious, please can you stop teasing me, and questioning me like this. You are bullying me you know. The girl in the chair smiled. Pretty and a Bully. That’s the best thing anybody has said to me since the accident. Most people think I’m a parcel to be moved and washed and transported. You really think I’m pretty and a bully, there was joy in her voice.

Yes you are very pretty but only a small bully. Ok, now that I’m in total control tell me why the editor should give you a column, what do you plan to say to him. I don’t really know what to say. I just thought I read out my best pieces to him. Read some to me and I’ll pretend to be the editor, I can be a trail audience. You’re being a Judge now. Yes a judge and if your writing is rubbish I’ll push you out of the lift.

I closed my eyes and felt dizzy, the pretty girl in the wheelchair took  my hand. Sorry for being a bully, but tell me a story. So I told her some stories, I read them out from the folder I had under my arm. She was pleased. Can you make one up the spot? I need to sit in my chair in front of the computer and write them down, then I get the words right. I’m not a stand up comedian, its a different skill, though I’m better than some stand up comedians, like Mr Grey on tv, I’m better than him. Anybody is better than Mr Grey nodded the pretty girl in the wheelchair.

So I explained how I wrote stories and how I got an idea and ran with it, and how I had a kind of internal SatNat while always lead to the right ending for reach story. You should do a pod cast or have a Utube channel suggested the pretty girl in the wheelchair. Yes it would be classed as a porn channel no doubt. She laughed, I’d sleep with you she whispered. I’m flattered I replied, but I probably would not live up to your expectations. But we would laugh. Yes you would laugh.

We looked away but looking at the drop from the 27^th floor glass lift made me look back at her. Well I think I’ve missed my chance. But it has been a laugh. Can we stay in touch asked the pretty girl in the chair? If you like I replied. At that moment the lift restarted. At the 39^th floor we both got out. I waited in reception. I was 2 hours late, I’d missed my chance but made a new friend, a pretty 23 year old girl in a wheel chair.

Can you come this way said the secretary. So I followed I was led to the board room. Inside the usual table and chairs and men in suits. At the far end a man in a wheelchair and besides him a pretty 23 year old girl also in a chair. Allow me to introduce Michael Casey the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham the one in England, said Louise for that was her name. He’s going to have a column, a podcast and a Utube channel for our Media group.

What I had not realised was that Louise had planned it all, she took it literally when she first read my Elevator Advert online. So she had interviewed me while the lift was stuck. It had all been her plan, a way of testing this humour writer. And that’s how to get an Elevator Advert to work. You get trapped and videoed while you are stuck in a lift with your future boss.