Bwog Staffer Julia Ulziisaikhan is angered over elevator behavior, and you probably would agree too.
Picture this. You just got off a grueling 2 hours of a seminar class.
As you walk towards your dorm, you’re thinking about jumping into the comfort of your dorm room. You want that nice shower, or to curl up in bed and watch a show. A nice fat fucking nap, maybe. Anyways, you’re walking towards the elevators which are located on the lobby level of your dorm building. Even though you live on the upper floors of your dorm building (let’s say, any floor above 6), the luxuries of the modern age offer you the privilege to take the elevator, a decently large metal box contraption that transports you to your desired floor. No worries there. No effort involved in getting to your room, right?
Except, that’s where you’re wrong. There are so many things that can go wrong with people getting in a crowded elevator.
But this random bitch (a gender neutral term in this context) from floor 3, an abled person, not even carrying bags or nothing, no laundry, steps in the elevator. This person moves to the very back of the elevator, to the most remote crevices of the elevator relative to the elevator doors. This person proactively ambles to the fucking recesses of the elevator, all while knowing consciously that there is a massive crowd of disheveled students also located in the elevator. This person presses the floor 3 button like the bold scoundrel they are. Then, the elevator door closes.
There’s about 20 people packed in the elevator right now. You can smell the neck sweat of the person sardine-packed in front of you. As the elevator rises up 10 feet, you can sense with the anger in your chest that the elevator just stopped for the very fucking person who lives on floor 3. All the people in the entire elevator has to evacuate out like a horde, just for this 1 (one) person to step out on floor 3. All the disgruntled people in the elevator have been dispersed in chaos because of this, and now have to messily walk back in the elevator just because there was precious space needed for that fucking person who lives on floor 3. More and more floors slowly stop and slowly rise until we get to your floor. At this point, you’re both emotionally and physically exhausted.
Oh, and another thing: The next time someone sticks their gross limb through the elevator door as it closes, I’m not hesitating to unleash my katana to dismember them.
I wish this picture had all of the buttons pressed via Libreshot.