Posts tagged ‘lift.’

Meanwhile in Vienna…

As y’all know, we recently were vacationing in Italy, Bibione to be exact.

We were gone 17 days. One day before our departure our elevator (living on the 6th floor, or 7th of you’re American) was shut down for service repairs. Which was very delightful for me, now having to haul the suitcases down to the basement garage (6th floor up, so 8 floors total).

It was out of commission for one and a half weeks during our absence.

We later learned it wasn’t just serviced, oh no:
They replaced the hydraulics.

Before the replacement the elevator made a VROOM sound, when it was starting to go up, that you heard in the entire apartment!

Now that VROOM sound is gone. Now it is making a TOC TOC TOC TOC sound when going up. The entire length of the journey UP.
THAT YOU HEAR IN THE ENTIRE APARTMENT!

Fuck me sideways.

What hydraulics did they use? Second grade, second hand, salvaged from a scrap yard??

Jesus ascending Christ!

If you’ll excuse me, I have to break something…in the elevator…

A.

Do you even lift?

The gloves are dead, long live the gloves!

After the old ones were tearing apart I told myself that enough was enough. So I got some new ones. 


Then here are my dumbbells, with 11kg each (2x 5kg weight +1kg the actual bar). It’s a far cry from my previous setting of 16kg each, but I have half an hour each workday morning for my workout, so I need to place an emphasis on efficiency as much as on lifting: I simply lack the time to push for 150 repeats at 16kg every workday morning. But with patience I will get there eventually. 😉

So, at this time I’m doing 150 repeats for pushups, situps, bicep curls and tricep routines.

Until such time,
take care,
A.

Cabin of Death roaring

After the elevator had been out of commission for a week, instead of ten days (at least something), it worked for just as long.

A week.
One fucking week!

Are you kidding me? Are you being serious?

In addition to the damn thing being broken AGAIN, the entire time it DID work, every time it started to move UP it let go a roar that was the loudest in the sixth floor.
My floor.

It is already being fixed, as I write these lines.
But the roaring persists…that’s what you get for taking the cheapest contractor…

Take care,
A.

Cabin of Death under repair.

“Dear tenants, please notw that from the 2nd of May until the 12th of May 2016 this elevator willbe offline, due to maintenance and repair. We are sorry for the inconvenience.”

Alright.
I am not burning down the house.
Yet.

I live on the 6th floor, or the 7th if you can’t count right (a.k.a. American), which means on a normal weekday I go down once in the morning, and ideally, up once in the afternoon. If there’s an “emergency” more often in both directions.

This time span includes a weekend, a holiday and a banking holiday. I hope that am all ten days from rhe earliest hour possible, until the latest possible, there will be men (amd women?) laboring hard to improve our technological standard and safety.
Because of not, I will become irked.
And then I will burn shit.
So I leave the house at 6am, there better be a bunch of schmucks greeting me with a smile and greasy faces ready to weld something, including the banking day, and holiday.
Or you turn the darn thing back on during the four day weekend you and your lazy jerkoffs are going to take, now are you?

I know, they will not be turning it on, and I know, they will not be working from 6am till 10pm, but at least I was able to let off some steam…

Take care, and steer clear of elevators…
A.

Life ain’t that hard, break it up!

Look people, we are all adults here, some of us partially educated, which is why I find it more disturbing than I am willing to admit, that door etiquette is an alien concept to so many.

As usual,  it really is simple, follow this procedure:
•if people want to exit a/n train/tram/bus/ferry/elevator/store/etc. while
•you want to enter it,
•you step aside,
•let them leave,
•then you enter.

There is no deviation from this procedure.
None.
Not if your elderly, pregnant and especially if you have some little gremlin on or around you, who should be raised with some proper door mannerism.

Regardless of your ethnicity, gender, gender identity, religion, sexuality, age, etc. – if you block the way of exiting people, or worse, enter while others are leaving, or before others have exited – you’re a jerk, and you deserve to be tackled as if this was american football!

For frak’s sake, people, print this, and hand it to people who you just tackled to the ground. Makenot your daily ritual of reading this before you leave the house, stick it to your front door, so you’ll read it before leaving.
Just stop standing in front pf the doors, or running into people who are leaving.

Life really is not that hard. Now break it up, that group of yours has to split apart down the middle, so people can exit the vehicle/elevator/store and you can enter right after…

A.

Cabin of Death returns…

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.

Buttonmashing

Someone nicked the “Close door” button from the elevator in the office.

Why?
Who?

Is that person sitting at home now and mashing the button in the vane hope of closing the door remotely with it?
It often marvels me why things like that happen.
Not all too long ago someone had nicked the 1st floor button. Perhaps someone is building an elevator in his basement, and soon the Basement buttons will go missing.

I wonder what other useless crap people steal.
Singular Walltiles?

In other news, someone wrote to me “my radio broke down due to technical difficulties”…what else than technical difficulties? Occult attacks by a sect that is spread over twenty different care homes, throwing ectoplasm and other gallert substances with a pulse of 4 attacks per second? No. When a device breaks down it is always due to TECHICAL difficulties.

Unless of course someone nicks parts from it, as the now stuck elevator with the missing button proves.

Saw a sign in a storewindow the other day “Handcrafted Styrian Ice”. Perhaps their buttons got nicked too, so they had to make it by hand?
Wait!
Styrian?
Oh, I see, Arnold Schwarzenegger came from Styria, and he also was Mr.Freeze, so I guess it IS handcrafted, buttons or no.

At home the blank button in the elevator reminded me, someone had nicked the 3rd Floor button. If it was the same person as in our office building this is even more irritating, at work we have huge circular buttons, at home small square ones. Perhaps the Ground floor (E) is an invert 3 now, and the buttons are a messy mix of different buttons.

Either that or several people are building elevators in their basements. O.o

So much for the buttonmashers. At least touchscreen phones prevent people from using the stolen buttons on their phones…