I work on the 11th floor, so it is about as unlikely as an Amish girl attending Comic-Con that I will ever take the stairs to my office. As I was making my way to the elevator, the woman who had entered a few seconds before me kindly held it for me. Rather than the pervasive silence that usually characterizes elevator rides, this one was marked by a tutorial of how she came to the conclusion to hold the elevator:
"I heard your hurried footsteps and decided you must be trying to get into this elevator, so I held it for you."
"Well," I said, "I guess I was lucky an observant person occupied this lift." We passed floor two.
"Of course you never know why people hurry, but I thought it would be better to hold it and have you walk by then not and have you miss it." Floor four.
I smiled at her politely, noting her thought process on the logic of holding the elevator or not...she must be on floor seven.
Yep, she was. Oh, accountants...
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