Almost every morning I take the elevator up to my office. It’s on the fifth floor.
I could walk the stairs, and do somedays. Usually though, it’s only when I want to avoid a crowd stopping at every floor. Otherwise, the modern convenience of standing still & levitating suits me just fine.
I do however love racing down the stairs. I’m still 11 years old when I get that chance. I love to see how fast I can get my feet to shuffle down them. People stare, I don’t care.
Working on Wall Street though, you pretty much get used to elevators. They usually keep the offices high above the street & riff raff. And after a while the Otis stamp on the elevator floor becomes your doormat. It becomes a way of life. Stairs aren’t really something we seek out. To the Penthouse, please.
In fact, it’s so ingrained in our culture, we make up stuff like, “every night the assets go down the elevator, meaning the people who work there.”
And about two weeks ago, I was walking through the lobby to the elevator & I could see him. The futures were down big. When the market opened it was going to be an instant blood bath. He was agitated, patting his hand on his pants leg.
The elevator was really slow coming down. He checked his watch twice. It was 6am.
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