Tag Archives: OTIS

OTIS: Elevate Us

It turns out that I am the fourth of five unfortunate souls to be trapped in elevator #4 in the past week, and probably there for the longest time because Otis kept me busy pressing buttons and doors for 1/2 hour.

By then it was 6:30 and they finally got a truck to come out which took another 1/2 hour.

I was downstairs bringing in the dog late afternoon and a man I see reading the paper every morning shut the elevator door in my face, after I thanked him. Only one elevator is working for 20 floors of residents. It is rush hour now. Hopefully the stuck individual was released and is home safe and sound.

We pay a lot to live here. If management doesn’t have the money to pay for regular maintenance and repairs, they don’t belong in business and we will leave. If the bank who owns 40 stories of real estate here doesn’t want to allow management to spend money on this key issue, they do not deserve paying tenants. We’ve been here for years and in all my years on earth I’ve never been stuck in an elevator since last week.

School is starting up soon and when there is a moving truck outside or a furniture rental truck for rich kids whose parents are paying the bill, they shut down the only elevator that works these days. Yes, we are not allowed to use it. We live upstairs, way upstairs. I’ve had rheumatoid arthritis for 30 years, misdiagnosed for 20. Our dog has no hips.

Walking all those flights at least six times per day, while paying what we do for no service whatsoever, does not make sense. It’s time to move west, young man. We’re paying full income tax in two states, one in which my husband works and lives in a hotel, and one where he doesn’t make a nickel but it is our primary address.

Our dog Zoe has bottled water, a bowl, a 4″ orthopedic bed and a cargo net in the back of my SUV. All I need is my suitcase, guitar and laptop, dog food and it’s: have dog/doggie bags, will travel. I know my way, have done it before. Sick as a dog last time on that route, unable to speak at all so my husband followed in his car and when I got off the highway he followed, we got gas, water and used the facilities and, of course, took Zoe out first.

Fix the elevator, people! I’ll not be stuck again. Dee

Stick It!

No, it’s not what you think. It’s what gymnasts yell to their team members to “stick” a landing on a vault, floor exercise, dismount. It means bend your knees, look as if you meant to do what you did, rise up and elevate your arms and look at the judges and wave to the crowd.

If you take a step you’ll be penalized but if you fall on your face or on your butt it’s better to take a step. So, stick it.

Next is stuck. I took our dog Zoe out this evening, re-filled her water bowl and headed out without her, keys still in the door and ran into neighbors at the elevator. I had recycling to take out and was going to a local market to buy my husband his favorite frozen pizza as he’s coming in shortly after a long flight home.

Seconds after I bid adieu to my neighbors I hit the number for recycling, the elevator doors closed and it lurched and its computer went down. Thirty minutes later it lurched again. My cell would not work and my husband was on a plane, anyway. I was in intermittent contact with the elevator phone people.

Forget the high school days of stick it! This was just an old lady stuck alone with her recycling in an elevator, for an hour before anyone came to rescue me. I was four feet down and ten feet from our home when Mr. Otis came and opened the doors.

The first thing he said was “I’m going to close these doors and bring you up.” I replied “No way anyone is going to close these doors on me again.” He jumped down to lift me and the staff member that found me, J, held out his hand. I put one leg up and J pulled me. Thanks!

After playing with our dog and our neighbor’s grandkids I went home and started shaking. I had told the elevator operator/phone support (no cell phone service in the elevators) that if the #4 elevator kept jumping up and down I wrote a draft will yesterday and to tell my husband it’s in Word, the most recent document.

Guess what? I stuck it. Through dropping up and down I kept my knees bent for shocks and never fell or even took a step forward. Later I called my brother-in-law and told him to ask our nephew, nearing teen years so we’ll lose him forever, what to do if he was stuck alone in an elevator.

God bless him, he said “sit down.” The operators had me doing so many things inside that I could not do so. My husband just took the dog out, on the only working elevator for 30 stories of folks. It turns out others have been stuck in this elevator over the past few days and it was supposed to be turned off today. It wasn’t and it was hot in there and I didn’t know that the other one is sketchy as well. We have a number of floors here.

We also have pregnant ladies, elderly and disabled residents who need an elevator. I’m sure they’ll fix them tomorrow as there will be one elevator for movers and another for people who live here. The movers are more important.

And as the late, great Walter Cronkite would have said, And that’s the way it is, date…. Dee

ps No longer stuck.

 

 

 

I Am OTIS

I always loved OTIS, the elevator man.

We grew up in a village of 400 and had no tall buildings. When we’d go upstate to a big four-story hotel my sister and I would negotiate who could push the outside button and who could do the inside one. It was a game.

Many years later I had to teach our pup, now nearly ten, how to use an elevator. Tell a dog that a room is going to change floors and she’ll end up elsewhere. Think Being There and the fantastic Peter Sellers. She did fine and now can even negotiate a revolving door.

Now I Am Otis. She has no hips and has to be lifted up on the bed. Those are OTIS moments. I hate when she jumps right down because she thinks I’m in the Magic Food Room, yes, the kitchen, because I have to lift her right up again.

When there’s not food in play, she loves to be up on the bed with the person who is sleeping there, usually not me but my husband. I made certain to take the blinds down so he could sleep in, though he’s planning a day trip for us all. Let’s see how it goes. Zoe is great in the car. It just has to be cool enough weather for her to be in the car for 1/2 hour or so with the windows open.

Of course I’ll have to OTIS her up to her 4″ orthopedic bed in the back of my SUV. Dee

ps Zoe’s not spoiled or anything like that. She just has caring parents! D

Care for a lift? Dee