Life’s Little Irritants No. 11

As Jenny has pointed out, my posts have been football dominated lately which isn’t surprising given that quite a lot of my time over the last few days has been spent in front of the telly watching the matches or keeping track of the scores online.

So I thought I’d take a football -free time out for one of my occasional rantlets about the inconsequential irritants in life that can really get up my nose. Today’s subject is lifts.

No, not the sort you get by sticking your thumb out at the side of the road with a piece of cardboard with your destination scrawled on it, nor the sort you put in shoes to make you look taller. I mean the lifts that carry you up and down, specifically the ones that carry me up and down at work.

I could moan about the other people who use the lifts who haven’t grasped the basic principle of vertical travel, like the student who got in with me once on the ground floor and when I asked where she was going simply answered, “Up.” Or those who press both up and down buttons because they’re not sure if this indicates their desired direction of travel or the direction the lift is being called from. Or those who haven’t worked out that when the lift stops to let someone off, the doors stay open for ages unless you press the bloody button again. But I won’t.

What is annoying me is the regularity with which they break down because when that happens you end up waiting an age for the one remaining lift to arrive. Yes, I know I should take the stairs for the exercise, and I do from time to time, but I’m seven floors up and it’s bloody hard work.

The reason for their unreliability is that they are so old. Despite having had a cosmetic lift and an irritating automated voice warning, they’re essentially the same lifts installed when the place was built in the 60s. And because they are so old, it can take days and weeks to get spare parts.

And just when you thought I couldn’t work in the footie, I was chatting to one of the engineers the other week who said, “You know why we can’t get the parts? These lifts were installed the year that England last won the World Cup.”

Fingers crossed, should we win it again this year, the powers that be might commemorate the event by installing new ones.

Nobody’s prefect. If you find any spelling mistakes or other errors in this post, please let me know by highlighting the text and pressing Ctrl+Enter.

5 comments… Add yours
  • Yorkshire Pudding 14th June 2006

    Popping out for papers. Riding up and down in the lift. Chatting to lift engineers. Taking plane rides down to London. Spotting your house from the heavens. This sounds like a brilliant job to me. Is their a vacancy for a hard working 50-60hr a week knackered teacher who has never been off work in twenty seven years and believes that business lunches only happen in films? and “Hollyoaks”.

  • Shooting Parrots 14th June 2006

    It’s not as glam as it sounds, honest! And definitely no business lunches.

  • Jennyta 14th June 2006

    Ah, that’s better – normal service resumed…..brilliant! 🙂

  • Shooting Parrots 14th June 2006

    Depends what you call normal!

  • Jennyta 15th June 2006

    Knowledgeable, informed, pithy and witty posts of course! 😉


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