So, before I start, let me give you a tour of the elevators I am frequenting.

The elevator at home is a cabinet the size of 1 meter times half a meter. The sign says “4 Persons”…what kind of persons? Anorexic teenagers lifted from a mental facility?
Once we tried. From 6th floor to ground floor. After two seconds we gasped for air, as the oxygen was gone withing that time, after another two seconds we were gasping for more air, as the elevator had gotten stuck.
But it is supposed to be able to lift “320 kp”.
What unit is “kp”? The opfficial weight meassure in my country is “KILOGRAMs” or “kg”. So what is “kp”? Kilo pound? That would make it 320,000 pounds. You can’t get to that number if you take four super fat americans who drink their coffee with extra added fat-milk!
So what is 320 kp meant to be?

Carrying on, the cabin of death at my work place is supposed to handle 10 people, or 1000 kilograms. Now, this is more reealistic. 100kg per person, times ten is 1000 kg. Plus it’s an actual weight unit.
We once got in six of us. And we’re not the american super weight people who are fatter than the fattest man alive from the 1950’s. Normal people, ranging between 60 and 100 kg. Mind you, we were six!
Immediately the alarm went off: BEEEEEP! and the red light lit up telling us that we were too heavy.

How do they come up with these arbitrary numbers of people allowed in the elevator anyways? I imagine they stuffed ten plastic mannequins in there, two rows of three, two piled up sideways between the rows and another two stuffed overhead. Then the engineers looked at each other and nodded, saying “ten?”
“Yes, ten.”

So, recently I got into one of the elevators at work, the doors closed, and – if you’re like me you have something in your hand. Cellphone, tablet, book, magazine, newspaper, anything to occupy your mind. – after a while you turn, like the good programmed little drones we are, and then it hits you! The bloody thing hasn’t moved a millimeter!
Frantically you start hitting all the buttons, door open, door close, all the floors, close to pressing the alarm button suddenly the door pops open on the floor you entered and you jump out!
Weird thing is, after this the elevator goes where it is supposed to. Not that I have ridden it out, I’m not going near the damn thing anymore.
Only recently I had waited for a bloke who had entered the thing before me, while holding the door of the other elevator. He came out, relieved to be free again, and thanked me for waiting.

So, the Cabin of Death strikes again. Repeatedly, all the while I hear people tell stories how they got trapped.

Take the stairs, people,
A.

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