Sometimes we can get to where we are going by never knowing where we are.
As I was on the way to see a doctor about my sore knee, I thought it best to use the elevator to get to his office on the second floor of a new building out on the grounds of the University.
I found the elevator readily enough after walking half way around the building and back to my original point again to recheck exactly which way to go to find the elevator..which of course was in the opposite direction.
After walking almost the same length around again I finally found what I was seeking.
Stepping into the elevator was a relief until I spied the buttons listing the floors and their labels.
There was the obligatory B..for basement I presumed. I later found out unnecessarily that my presumption to be correct on the return trip from the doctor's office.
There was the 1 for what I understood to be the main floor..or ground floor..the one I was standing on.
Then there was a 2.. Hurray! The floor I was looking for.
I looked at the next button and what do I see?
I see a 2 1/2 beside it. Hmmmm.
The archaeological/engineering possibilities and/or impossibilities started flying through my mind as fast as blue birds flit with panic from bird house to bird house searching for the correct place to roost.
Just who would dream up such a floor number as 2 1/2? How would one even get out of the elevator if the door did indeed open at 2 1/2? Was I misreading the numbers? Had I really finally and ultimately lost my grasp of reality? Gosh..what have they invented and what the H E double hockey sticks do I do now?
I pushed the 2 button.
The elevator rose.
The door opened. I peered out.
I saw the huge expanse of a gymnasium looming in front of me.
No sign of doctor or offices anywhere. I returned to the elevator and with the feeling of surrealism that I think that Charlie Bucket must have had as he entered Willie Wonka's Glass elevator....
I pushed the 2 1/2 and waited.
The door closed softly.
I felt the elevator lift.
Suddenly the opposite wall from the door (the one I was leaning on) started to move and slid open to reveal a busy hallway with signage denoting the office numbers of chiroprators, surgeons, and physiotherapists.
I had arrived!
I am not sure where I was but I do know that I was there and am not there now.
As I was on the way to see a doctor about my sore knee, I thought it best to use the elevator to get to his office on the second floor of a new building out on the grounds of the University.
I found the elevator readily enough after walking half way around the building and back to my original point again to recheck exactly which way to go to find the elevator..which of course was in the opposite direction.
After walking almost the same length around again I finally found what I was seeking.
Stepping into the elevator was a relief until I spied the buttons listing the floors and their labels.
There was the obligatory B..for basement I presumed. I later found out unnecessarily that my presumption to be correct on the return trip from the doctor's office.
There was the 1 for what I understood to be the main floor..or ground floor..the one I was standing on.
Then there was a 2.. Hurray! The floor I was looking for.
I looked at the next button and what do I see?
I see a 2 1/2 beside it. Hmmmm.
The archaeological/engineering possibilities and/or impossibilities started flying through my mind as fast as blue birds flit with panic from bird house to bird house searching for the correct place to roost.
Just who would dream up such a floor number as 2 1/2? How would one even get out of the elevator if the door did indeed open at 2 1/2? Was I misreading the numbers? Had I really finally and ultimately lost my grasp of reality? Gosh..what have they invented and what the H E double hockey sticks do I do now?
I pushed the 2 button.
The elevator rose.
The door opened. I peered out.
I saw the huge expanse of a gymnasium looming in front of me.
No sign of doctor or offices anywhere. I returned to the elevator and with the feeling of surrealism that I think that Charlie Bucket must have had as he entered Willie Wonka's Glass elevator....
I pushed the 2 1/2 and waited.
The door closed softly.
I felt the elevator lift.
Suddenly the opposite wall from the door (the one I was leaning on) started to move and slid open to reveal a busy hallway with signage denoting the office numbers of chiroprators, surgeons, and physiotherapists.
I had arrived!
I am not sure where I was but I do know that I was there and am not there now.
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