I’ve got a confession to make…

I have an irrational, obsessive fear of elevator shafts and street drains.
Let me explain.

First, elevators.

I’m not scared of an elevator falling to the bottom floor as you may think is my fear regarding elevators.  I’m afraid of that little spot between the floor, and the elevator.

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The slat that is a perfect spot, that if my keys fell, it would be a fiasco to try and get them back.  There is not a time, not once, that I step onto an elevator and I don’t think about that hole, and my keys falling into it.  I then go through the steps in my mind that I believe would be how to get them back.  This is what I’ve come up with.  If we’re at a large building, say a casino, there are people that work there all over, I believe I could find the right person to lead me down to what I picture as a basement with a burning stove, where in movies, it’s creepy and murders take place.  BUT, there would be my keys, sitting at the bottom of the elevator shaft, along with what I would imagine are wallets, money, phones, and other keys belonging to people who hadn’t thought through a plan, and figure their item is gone for good.

IF, it is a small elevator, in say, a small apartment complex.  I figure I’m pretty screwed.  It’s going to take a long while to get someone who knows where to go and what to do to get me my keys that fell down the hole.  But, if I can get the keys to the bottom elevator floor room, I’m pretty sure I’d have the situation locked down.  I’ve thought it through in my mind so many times, I’m pretty sure I’ve come up with all possible solutions.

So, as I think through my plan of action each and every time I get on or off of an elevator, you can look closely, and will see that I am distracted in my thoughts of where exactly my keys are.  If they are in my purse, and there is any possible way that they can fall out and land perfectly as to slide down that crack into the elevator dungeon, I’m double checking that my purse is securely closed, possibly checking multiple times.  If my keys or phone are in my hand, there is a death grip on them.

My husband was with me when I took the picture above of the floor in front of the elevator.  He said “What are you doing?”  I told him that I was taking a picture because I may write a post on how I’m scared that my keys will fall down the elevator shaft through the slot between the floor and the elevator.  His reply?  “Alright.”  Really, no skin off his back, this isn’t his first rodeo with me and my crazy thoughts, he knows there is no reason to question further.

Moving on to street drains.

As if the elevator wasn’t enough to worry about, there are street drains.

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These pose an entire different threat.  Some, I don’t get too incredibly worried about, because you can see the bottom.  Yet, on a rainy day, that bit of comfort is totally gone.  Once those keys hit the flowing water downhill, they are gone.  And really, I have no plan for that one.  As well as the large drains where you can’t see the ground.  No plan other than calling the City Utility district and maybe making up a story that the keys belonged to the limo of a top government official or something so that maybe they would come and help me look for them.

And what about this sign that often accompanies a street drain?  It makes this whole process even harder to handle.  Really?  A creek?  I’m never getting my keys back, ever.

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Street drains.  I have to hold my keys even tighter in my hands then when I’m walking onto an elevator.  Some of these drains seem large enough for my whole wallet to fall through.  I will avoid walking directly over them at all costs.

The other night, I felt like someone pulled the banana in the tailpipe trick on me.  Not really that trick specifically, but a clever one that got me.  As I leisurely got out of the car at Target, I looked down and this is what I saw:

IMG_7017Good Lord.  I let out what I imagine would be described as a loud gasp, like, I just missed getting hit by a dart or something.

Thankfully, my keys and phone were tucked away in my pockets, where they were not threatened by this unexpected drain.

I can pretty much guarantee that I will never park in that spot at Target again for as long as I live.

I think it’s safe to assume that you would not be surprised at this point to know that each and every time that I take off a ring or earrings near a sink, that I mentally go through the steps of taking apart the pipes below to rescue any fallen jewelry.  I find comfort in having a plan.

And, there you have it.  My brain.  It’s never boring in there, there’s always something that I can find to worry about!

I’d love to know if anyone has every dropped anything down the elevator shaft hole, or in a drain, and what the outcome was.  I am fully willing to add a new plan of action to my current ones if need be!  🙂

 

 

OH MY GOSH!  After I wrote this, I googled ‘my keys fell down the elevator shaft’, and this came up!

http://www.wikihow.com/Get-Your-Keys-out-of-an-Elevator-Shaft

No way.

AND THIS!  I love Mike Rowe, and Dirty Jobs, didn’t know he did this episode.  And they found a credit card!!!  Along with some gross stuff…

http://www.discovery.com/tv-shows/dirty-jobs/videos/elevator-repairman/

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