Elevators: The Birthplace of Urban Legends

Our unit is on the 15th floor. The elevator takes approximately 35 seconds to and from the second basement where my car is parked. When I am lucky enough to have a fellow passenger on the elevator, I  have up to half a minute to engage in a conversation with them. I enjoy doing that. It is my way of acknowledging their presence. Often, the conversation will bear on something as superficial as the weather. The topic does not matter. Sometimes, I will be more direct and ask, even a stranger, “How is life treating you?” Occasionally, not often granted, they will unburden themselves by sharing something personal and they will exit the elevator a little more light-hearted than when they got on. At least I like to think so.

Yesterday, my co-traveler on the short trip to the underground garage was a young woman, a new arrival in the building I had never seen before. She initiated the conversation and commented on how wonderful the weather was. I agreed, “It is indeed. I ordered the weather we are getting today.” She accepted to play along with my little game and asked me, “How do you do that? I would love to order a beautiful day for tomorrow?” Naturally, I felt obliged to share my recipe for conjuring up a sunny day and responded, “That’s easy. You dance three times around a mulberry bush singing: sunshine, sunshine!” The elevator door then opened, and my young friend exited laughing but saying that she would try that.

Today, the sky is covered, it is raining, and the air is muggy. The only possible conclusion is that the young lady did not dance around a mulberry bush. She may not have been able to find one. Or maybe, she did not know what type of dance would be appropriate (I surmise the flamenco works best, but any style would do), or she may not have known what tune to use (I suspect something upbeat would be more efficient). Whatever the reason, I am disappointed she did not perform the prescribed ritual. I would have enjoyed another sunny day.