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As I got on the elevator at the FSU parking garage an attractive female student hurriedly wheeled towards the closing doors. My inner-Knievel sprang into action doing a spin move to wedge my foot in the doors at the last moment. She thanked me for my machismo and I asked what floor, "six" me too " I'm tired", and we shared a chuckle.
Does anyone else dread the awkward silence in an elevator? It's about as comfortable as watching the pottery scene from the movie Ghost with your mom in the room. The silence was deafening and only broke when she fumbled for her keys and also pulled out a small pepper spray bottle. My first thought was maybe she pulled the pepper spray by accident. That thought quickly vanished as she removed the cap.
Was it me? Did my proclivity to help get me in trouble again?
Somebody had to say something. I certainly didn't want a product that's 300,000 on the Scoville Scale hurtling towards my eyes. "Uhhh, whats that for?" I asked. "Well you can never be to careful. But don't worry you don't look dangerous."
I'm not gonna lie that kinda hurt. While I wouldn't like to take pepper spray to the face at least a thought that behind these black rim glasses lies a mysterious outlaw who throws caution into the wind.
I'm gonna have to come up with my outlaw name and brand it accordingly. I'm not sure what it is yet, ideas are flowing, but I'll be sure to let you know.
