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At embassy suites, this fancy hotel, they have these glass elevators that
let you see into the lobby that looks like paradise. That is, until you are
forced to look at it for three straight hours, about three stories u,
surrounded by crying kids. We were 10, and we were there for a
slumber party for my frieds birthday.
She had this great day planned out, including ice shakes, a movie, and a
salon. But before that, all fifteen girls plus a pregnant grumpy woman
watching to go up, one of the girl had a brilliant idea of jumping while
we were going up.
I immediately said it was terrible idea, but all jumped. And the elevator
got stuck. In between levels. With no cellphones. When they realized
we were stuck, this is when the wailing begun. Earlier at breakfast, I
had been chatiing with an artist who also was staying at the hotel. This
same woman was walking along the hall when I got her attention, She
had a notebook, which she used to communicate with me. I used
charades to tell her to call the fire department.
An hour and a half later, the fire department got there, and it took
them an hour to pry open doors. I didn’t want to say I told them so, but
I told them so.