A Very Bizarre Trip

I don't like taking the elevator. Even when I was 42 weeks pregnant with the Supergirl, I refused to be the fat girl on the elevator. I would take the stairs every time. Even though I am super afraid of stairs. Like extremely afraid.*

*I am afraid of stairs because I have spent a large amount of my life falling down them. I am not afraid of walking up them, just coming down. My fear of stairs is not so bad that I am unable to do it. My fear of escalators has escalated (sorry about that) to the point that I can no longer even walk in their direction. My palms sweat, my mouth goes wet and dry like I am about to vomit and I become paralyzed with fear. That is really bad, almost as bad as my fear of water. 

I had to take the elevator today though, and I guess for awhile now that I have a torn meniscus in my knee. A few minutes ago, I had to take some packages downstairs for the interoffice mail guy to pick up and so I got on the elevator. Our building is only two stories, so it still feels rather ridiculous that we even have an elevator, but that's life.

I get on the elevator, press 1 to begin my descent when the phone rings. I was certain that it was the security guard calling to tell me that I could have just dropped my envelopes from the balcony, but I answered anyway.

"Um, hello?" My face turns red, knowing that this has got to be a joke. Sounds of a call center fill my ears.

"Yes, ma'am. Can I please speak with Robert Williams?", a thick Indian accent says from what sounds like a thousand miles away.

"This is an elevator." I reply, still wondering if this could be a joke. The doors spring open to announce that I have made it to my destination.

"Yes, ma'am, but do you think I can speak with Mr. Williams?"

I look all around, in the corner, on the ceiling. "Uh, no."

"Can you confirm that this is the number for Mr. Williams?"

"It's probably not. It's the phone in the elevator."

"Do you have the current address or phone number for Mr. Williams?"

Now this guy is starting to get on my nerves. "This is the elevator. In a building. I think you have an incorrect number."

"Is this number 850-555-5555?"

"I don't know, it's the phone in an elevator."

"Okay, I will remove this number from our list. Have a good day."

I hung up the phone, closed the little door, and stepped out the elevator.

How do you feel about people that apparently lack common sense? Do you think he thought I was lying?