some kind of certainty

I got stuck in an elevator in New York City on my way home from dinner. I was living in Fort Greene, Brooklyn at the time so my metro stop was at Atlantic Terminal– right next to the Target. The front door was closed and the only entrance was the elevator entrance. I walked through the door and a tall man in neat athleisure held the elevator for me. It moved up maybe a foot then jolted to a stop. I laughed a little. 

Truly this was like a movie. There was a woman in the corner on a fake phone call the whole time–I knew it was fake because I could see her phone and she would switch who she was talking to from the police to her friend every once in a while. She was not so much moving as jerking her mody randomly. Then there was an older Indian woman, who had a quivering presence and a confused disposition the whole time. Then there was a young couple in the middle who had left their cats at home and one of whom ran a lifestyle blog she told me about. The tall man was next to me, he was calm and charming. He joked about living in Brooklyn for his whole life and never getting stuck in an elevator. Everyone else agreed–we were all doing something for the first time.

I stayed quiet. I was texting a friend to make dinner plans for the following wednesday. And I texted my mom–’you won’t believe where I am…’