OK… so this is what we’re gonna do …
YOU’RE going to ignore the fact I’ve been slacking off for weeks and are instead going to imagine I’ve been off writing an outstanding novel that will be snapped up almost instantly, filmed, make me more money than I can wave a stick at ( and believe me, I have exceptional stick-waving skills )and I’m now typing using my solid gold keyboard…
And I’M going to pretend I haven’t been off being mental and playing FarmVille obsessively on Facebook.
So, where was I? Ah yes, PostADay *ahem*
Today’s prompt is :
“Who is the last person you’d want to be stuck in an elevator with?”
Hmmm. I’m a bit spoiled for choice on this one.
1) Obviously there’s the option of the numerous Ex’s that I’ve parted company with on less than amicable terms. The phrase “Hey.. let’s be friends!” is totally alien to me and frankly I’d rather pull off my toenails and skip merrily through a stream of lightly salted lemon juice than spend a single minute in the company of any of them again. Not all my ex’s were assholes, but enough were for me to sit down and seriously give myself the “What the hell are you thinking ??” talk.
2) Then there’s the option of avoiding being trapped with anybody who’s a bit peaky-looking and a touch plague-y. Anyone getting into the lift carrying a crumpled DHL package marked “Warning : Ebola virus in badly packaged thin glass test tube” who’s vomiting up their own intestines… and I’m gonna be taking the stairs instead.
3) ANYONE of any age, race, religion, gender or sexual orientation who thinks it’s fun to jump up and down and say things like “Oooh.. I wonder what would happen if the cable breaks?! I’d have to time it so that the second before the elevator hits the bottom I jump really high, thereby avoiding the shattering moment where my leg bones shoot up through my spine, puncturing both lungs, before embedding themselves in my own brain! Ha ha haaa!”
4) Folk who are dribbling and carrying a weapon of some sort, or a severed head in a carrier bag? No thanks.
5) Nose-pickers. Seriously… go get a tissue. I’m not saying I’m above a good dig myself, cos sometimes you just have to get a finger up there and see if you can strike gold, but at least I have the decency to do it out of the sight of others who might possibly have an aversion to nasal mucus. It’s not so much the actually excavation that bugs me, it’s what they do with their snot nugget that I take offence to. Frankly, I’d rather they ate it ( yes, I said it.. sue me ) than do the roll & flick. My snot = OK. Stranger Snot Ball In My Hair = Not cool.
6) Dirty pervy old men. Nuff said.
7) Conversationalists. I’m an introvert. I’m happy with my own company. I like quiet. Witter on endlessly for hours on end and you’re likely to be on the receiving end of a particularly vicious biro-ing with any number of cheap plastic pens I keep in my bag for just such an occasion.
8 ) Charlie Sheen. Because.