Traveling Without Moving

(I also managed to save this post from the old site. Sure is convenient when I run out of fresh ideas I guess. )


Hear me out here for a second. This does sound weird, but I’m just testing the boundaries. For safety!


Suppose I were rich (which I guess does comprise most of my retarded scenarios) and…an enthusiast of elevators? Maybe I had some sort of childhood trauma or bizarre sexual experience that led me to love elevators. And I’m rich, don’t forget that part (and probably handsome). But, alas, I also live in a home that has a single floor (once again, maybe I’m attached to this particular house due to a magical spell or house arrest or the surrounding properties are made of lava) and am unable hold back my love of lifts, my elevator emotions. Could I convince, perhaps with an avalanche of money, impassioned plea, or threats of sexual violence, a company to install an elevator into my home? An elevator for a single floor? It wouldn’t really go anywhere other than just shaking in place to simulate vertical movement. The doors would open, I would get in, and the doors would close again. Music would play. I’d just stand there, patiently enjoying myself, potentially in an attendant’s uniform. There would be two buttons on the inside wall, (1) and (CALL).




What the fuck does the (CALL) button in an elevator do? I’ve never pressed it. Some elevator enthusiast I must be. Maybe it plays something like a duck call. Or, maybe it calls a random person in the world, which would be quite an awkward conversation (especially if they spoke a different language, or worse, in tongues). Is there a limit on the call button? I imagine it would get quite expensive for the building owner if it allowed more than one call per ride per customer. Aha! The call limit must reset each time the doors open to let passengers on and off. A cool down meter of some sort wouldn’t work, as it may deprive some riders of their legally entitled single phone call. Thinking about it now, the (CALL) button probably just calls somebody in the building so you can alert them of your predicament. The person you call is locked in a tiny room in the bottom of the building and forced to stay awake and aware 24 hours a day, sacrificing their lives in the pursuit of vertical transportation tranquility.


I like the idea that the market works in such a way that someone with such a colossally stupid idea, given enough money, can find someone to make their dumb dream come true. While the initial pitch would likely take several hours (just explaining the utility of an elevator that only services a single floor), they would have no choice but to indulge me and my blunt force foolishness.


Oh, and the door would be one of those wood grills.