Archives for the month of: April, 2018

Do you ever watch people in or around elevators?  There are many types of “elevator people”.  There are the “Tappers” who continually press the button thinking that will either cause the elevator doors to open or arrive faster.  Then there are those that aren’t versed in elevator etiquette and will walk onto an elevator, allowing the doors to close as others are attempting to enter.  There are those who walk onto an elevator while conversing on their mobile only to rant “ARE YOU THERE?!”—“HELLO?!” — as soon as the doors close.  As if phones ever work in a closed, moving elevator.  There are those who have intimate conversations with family or friends —conversations the innocent bystander can’t un-hear.

Today I encountered the “Stoppers”.  Those that arrive on their desired floor—step out of the elevator just clearing the doors—and stand there looking around as if to announce, “Yes! I’m here people! Look at me!”   This would be perfectly fine, except there are people attempting to enter said elevator or merely pass through and get past the elevator lobby.

Today, was a site to see.  While walking outside ready to enter the building— a woman tapped up next to me clearly in a nervous hurry—she sashayed by me stating, “I clearly drank too much at lunch!”  Translation—she needed the lady’s room—quickly!

Please allow me to digress.  To get to the lady’s room, one must pass through the elevator lobby and make two lefts.

As the nervous lady entered the building and approached the elevator lobby, she increased her speed.  I slowed my pace to give her plenty of room to run.  Unknowingly, this also gave me a front row view to what was about to transpire.

As nervous woman pranced up towards the elevators, the elevator in the middle opened and a female Stopper hopped out and stood strong.  She looked around in bewilderment as the nervous lady rammed in to her.  Both women hit the floor with a slap.  As they hit—the floor became wet—very wet—nervous woman’s bladder had lost.  She must have had gallons of liquid for lunch!

Two bodies slipping around in urine.  One mortified—one angry—the spectators not knowing what to do as anyone leaning in to help would have clearly slipped and gone down themself.  Finally, with much struggle, the two women crawled out of the puddle and onto a rug.  As they struggled to their feet—I couldn’t help but feel bad for the woman who didn’t make it to the lady’s room—whose bladder had given up as she flew to the floor.  She was mortified and “relieved” all at once.  She hurried off to avoid further embarrassment.

Sometimes in life it is important to step off the elevator —keep moving with a commanding presence—pay attention to our surroundings—and know where we are going.  Other times in life it is important to not stretch ourselves to a point our body is forced to take control.  For in the end—both could lead us to hit a surface we aren’t happy with.

Are you aware what a “UTV” is?  They are basically off road vehicles designed to take you up and down any terrain.

While on vacation, my friend and I decided to pull from our redneck roots and go on a private UTV tour of the island.  I’m not sure what my expectations were—maybe toodling down a dirt road, sliding tires and enjoying the day.  Pulling from the inner tomboy, always lurking inside of me.

Our guide arrived perky and excited to start the tour.  We climbed into a mini van skinned with advertisement for the tour business.  The seats covered in plastic, like my grandmothers sofa, to avoid dirt, grime and moisture.

We made our way through the residential area of the island.  Winding and turning from dirt road to paved.   It was a mini tour in itself, showing us the native’s neighborhoods.   Finally, pulling in to our destination—the UTV hangout.  This was no typical UTV tour business.  Instead, it was a haven for displaced animals.  The tour business was the income base for the refuge.  Immediately, I made friends with “Tiny”, a 160 pound South African Boerboel, also known as a South African Mastiff.  Tiny very much liked his puppy massage.  His paws nearly the size of my hands.

Soon we were off on our island adventure.  We were given a face mask to protect us from the dust so we could “breathe”.  Hmmm—

We took off bouncing out of the lot, our first road paved, then quickly darting off onto the dirt washboard.   Soon we were climbing up the hills, bouncing over rocks.  Views of the aqua colored ocean water brushing against the lava rock, quickly appeared.  It was amazing!

The dust was flying—rocks were bouncing beneath—along the path we hopped.

The UTV had a roof, however, no sides.  I could feel the sun beating down on my legs.  Would I get sunburned?  Didn’t matter—  the views were worth every ounce of burn, dust or sweat.

Several of the paths took us up deep rocked hills, causing us to slow down a bit to maneuver the rocks.  Bouncing back and forth as we ascended.  We passed numerous large guided groups.  Covered in dirt and grime—face masks hiding their identities.  It was funny to see how filthy they were, yet enjoying themselves.

We ended our adventure back at the animal refuge.  Covered in dust and sweat, smiling with enjoyment for we had seen parts of the island we never would have without a guide.

Sometimes in life, you have to get a little dirty to get to the adventure.  It’s worth every dust particle to enjoy the view!   Who knows—you could even meet a friendly face named “Tiny”!