LTTF Elevator. Capacity: 10 people. Current occupants: 9. One hipster joe in a flannel tee, two newbie corporate janes, one big shot ceo on his cell, a shy wallflower blending in with the elevator walls, two hunky swimmers fresh from a chlorine bath, a petite lady fiddling with her iPhone 6, and me, the resident lady in black. There’s space for one more, but the swimmers’ gym bags keep anyone else from squeezing in.
The elevator goes down. Down. Down. And down. From level 143 to the lower ground floor. No one presses any other buttons in between.
Level 127. Hipster Joe and Corporate Jane 1 seem to be making eyes at each other. Hmm. Interesting. What happens if I give the two a little nudge?
Level 101. Corporate Jane 2 seems bummed that her bestie has left her for some man. She tries to discreetly glance around. Aha. Swimmer Dude 1. He looks interested. A slight push, maybe?
Level 83. Mr. CEO has finally let go of his phone. Ms. iPhone 6 has used up all her batteries. Good. Disconnect to connect, they say.
Level 59. Swimmer Dude 2 has been sneaking glances at Ms. Wallflower for quite some time. There’s a word for that in my language. Torpe. Come on, bro. Just talk to her already.
Level 40. 31. 25. Ahh, love is in the air. The pairs are making small talk inside the claustrophobia-inducing space. I hope you get each others’ numbers. We’ll reach LG soon.
The door finally opens. The couples throw furtive smiles at one another. I hustle, pushing my way out. There he is.
“Hey, love. Guess what happened just now? I was four times a matchmaker. Pretty cool, huh?”
He gives me a peck on the cheek and adds in a wink. “Pretty cool.”