Tripping in a Lift

Lifts, the necessity for all hall dwelling, chain smoking students.

Imagine: Halloween, fancy dress, a fist full of mushrooms and gagging for a nicotine hit.
I ventured to the lift with my fellow trippers, ironically, Raoul Duke (fear and loathing), and a cow.
We were soon joined by our fellow compadre. A young man dressed in women’s clothing, bunny ears perfectly mounted on his head and a tail. We were tripping!
As the ‘elevator’ slowly descended we were in a world of our own. Happy go lucky students, ready to take on the world.
That’s it, we had stopped at the ground floor. Open. No.

The small dots on the walls were vibrating, rhythmically dancing on a sheet of strangely yellow coloured wood.
“is it getting yellower?”
The lift’s colour strangely shifted through tangible glows of yellow, through yellow and (in my eyes) into a bizarre shade of orange. Tangerine?
We were stuck.

The inside doors had opened, although, the outer had decided to stay closed.
Me, a random guy, dressed in  nothing but a shirt, shorts and hat, surrounded by a cow, Raoul Duke and a ‘beautiful young lady’ were confined.
We had drinks, and nothing but hope…..we rang OTIS.

After pressing the alarm button, the lift soon spoke back…
“Stay There”
We had no choice…
As time slowly progressed, we became somewhat of a freak show. Crowds had gathered to witness the ‘show’. We needed to urinate.
With the inner door open, we had a perfect spot: the shaft. However with the increasing number of voyeurs, we began to loose control of the situation.

We slowly took it in turns to smoke. Still confused. Stuck in a lift, we stood. Drinking, smoking, tripping. A warden arrived.
“the good news, a technicians on his way. The bad news, he’ll be 45 minutes”.

We had to get out, sharpish.
Suddenly we were overwhelmed with the facts; we were actually stuck. Four blokes in fancy dress, three tripping, one sober (in comparison) and God knows how long it had been.
Suddenly the yellow, or tangerine, or whatever it was didn’t matter. The dancing dots were irrelevant, we needed out! 45 minutes was too much.

There was a lever of sorts, it hadn’t gone un-noticed, or un-touched but it had seemed useless. Any previous attempt to integrate with the thing had little result. The cow punched it.
The doors opened slightly, and with some further force we were free.
Fresh air, cigarettes, urination and freedom were well deserved, we had finally made it.
Three floors in God knows how long…It could’ve been worse.


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