Muppet Girl- The Curse of Riding the Elevator
I consider myself fairly friendly and for the most part socially acceptable. I’ll talk to just about anyone, learn their vital stats, and file that information for my own entertainment at a later date. When it comes to my building, I try to make nice with whomever I meet. Hey a single girl living in an apartment (that currently looks like its inhabited by gypsies) with a cactus needs a few friends in her building.
I especially like the cute guy who drives an Equinox (please tell me that’s a company car) who went to Oregon State. Except I think he has a girlfriend so I usually tally up the mornings I see him do the walk of shame from his car to the elevators when I’m leaving for work.
I’ve met a lot of nice people, like the Russians who live next door, Oregon State Boy, the family with the gorgeous baby, the boys down the hall who like teriyaki, or the girl from floor six who told me about Jimmy Loves in San Diego. Then there is crazy girl who I think I shall refer to as “Muppet Girl” as we have a habit of giving people nicknames. Muppet Girl drives a cracked out Honda CRX with striped seats and she will do just about anything not to ride the elevators with someone. Um hi, we all live in the same building, quit being a psycho banshee pants and just get in the damn elevator.
When I figure moved into the building she actually got back into her car to make sure she wouldn’t have to ride the elevator with me. Apparently a new person in a mostly secure garage = DANGER. At the time I thought there might be something wrong with me. . .but no she’s just completely inept. Last night I saw her getting out of her car while I was parking mine. I prayed that an elevator would come because riding with her sucks; I know she doesn’t want me there and she knows that I know this fact. So I parked, still no elevator. I was on the phone so I leaned against a support beam talking to Becky and waited some more. No elevator. Muppet Girl started pacing back and forth. Finally I started walking slowly towards the elevator still hoping that one would come and she’d jump in madly and press the buttons to make sure the doors closed before I got anywhere near her. Yeah, no such luck. Muppet Girl was forced to ride with me. Even better is that she refused to push any buttons in the elevator even though I got on after her and after I punched in the code for my floor she just stood there. I can’t remember if she lives on my floor or not, she very well could but she won’t get off the elevator with me.
Here’s the thing. Anyone can get on any floor in this building. If you live in the building long enough you know the codes to the top two floors, mine included. I got off at my floor and said goodnight and only then did she punch in her code.
Seriously now, I know where you live, I know when you come home at night, and I know where you park! If I want to stalk you I’ve already got half the pieces to the puzzle figured out! I might have to come up with a new and amusing game to play with Muppet Girl. Here are a few ideas I’ve come up with:
1. Stand freakishly close to her in the elevator. Smile and wink at her
2. Take photos of her while in the elevator
3. Refuse to push any buttons, see how long we sit in the elevator going no where
4. Meet her at her car every morning. Stand in her parking space until she returns at night.
5. Face the wrong direction in the elevator facing a corner. Bang head repeatedly into elevator walls and mutter about secret cameras in our apartments and strange men in the hallways.