The funniest thing happened yesterday. We were walking to the train station dressed as we usually are in black pants/skirt , white shirt and scarf/tie and we all got into the lift on the street that takes you up one level from street level to bridge level. 19 of us got in and the sign said 17 max. We pressed the up button and nothing happened. A few more presses and the lift went up about a foot. The doors were shut tight. We tried to get the doors to open but they wouldn’t budge. Furious pressing of all the buttons made no difference. Bart used the emergency phone in the lift and called for assistance. The voice told us they were going to send the fire brigade.
Meanwhile, the 19 of us were sweltering in this unairconditioned lift. A couple of the guys managed to prise the doors open an inch and some fresh air come in, which was very welcome. The claustrophobics amongst us were having a hard time as we were all pressed up against each other, sweating and getting rather hysterical. Passers-by were looking in through the glass sides and, whilst they appeared concerned for us, they couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. We certainly looked like a bunch of Mormons stuck in a lift.
Twenty minutes later a fire truck arrived with 4 burly firemen, who also had a smirk on their faces when they saw the glass lift jam-packed with an odd group of people in uniform all frantically waving their arms in the air. They tried to open the doors, to no avail. They then got on top of the lift and lowered it so it was level with the floor again and then the doors could be opened. Nineteen highly embarrassed Mormons got out of the lift, thanked the firemen, but didn’t look back because we knew they were having a good giggle.
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