Things in an elevator, or The Story of Dave

So, practically every day I come home from work and get in the elevator, I find something different on the elevator floor. I have decided that I should keep a running tally of the things on the floor of the elevators in my building.

So far, since they removed the carpet from the elevators and eliminated the dog pee problem (YAY!) there have been the following things, roughly in order of appearance:

1. Puddle of beer, probably half a can, splattered all over the elevator. Floor, walls, not ceiling. The ceiling is like 10+ feet high, so they didn't drop it with enough gusto. Maybe next time.
2. Tallboy of Keystone Light. Probably empty, 'cause there was another one right outside the lobby doors. Somebody was trying really hard to get drunk on cheap beer. Hope that worked out and that they didn't just end up having to pee a lot.
3. A nice looking red travel coffee mug with a spout cap on it. This made it out into the lobby later that evening.
4. Shattered bottle of 101 proof peppermint schnapps. Easily the most pleasant smelling elevator disaster so far, but sticky and shards of glass everywhere.
5. The Saddest Condom in the Universe. Still in the package, and it looked like it'd been through the laundry twice. I seriously almost took a picture of this one, but there was somebody else in the elevator with me and taking a picture of a discarded condom seems like something one should do while nobody is looking.

So, here's what I'm pretty sure happened. I'm going to name the character in this story Dave, after my lizardman in Skyrim. (Don't judge me. Dave is a perfectly good name for a lizardman in a fantasy world RPG. A PERFECTLY GOOD NAME.) Also, I will warn you, this is possibly in the top 10 worst stories ever written. So don't say I didn't warn you. 

The entire reason I posted this was because I started to crack a joke on Facebook, and it got too long to fit in a status update. So, here you go. Without further ado...

My life is a sitcom, vol I

So, I was at work today, doing my awesome work type things where mostly I sit at a computer and type cryptic jargon into a machine that then does even more cryptic things in response and makes magical things happen. Like unicorns.

And it was just about time to go home. So I got up, and -- oh, I've got to pee before I leave or this will be a miserable drive.

I stop in the bathroom, and march up to the urinal, and do my thing, and it's just another day, and okay done peeing, I should zip up my pants.

So, as many of us have done so many times before, I grab my zipper with one hand, and my jeans with the other hand, and my entire back shrieks in protest.

Fortunately, I had my best friend in the bathroom with me in the next urinal over, and when it happened, I stopped zipping my pants up having gotten almost nowhere with the zipper, froze, and said "Hurk!"

He immediately looked very (some might say overly) concerned. "Are you okay??"

I hunched over a little, put one hand on the small of my back, and winced dramatically.

"I think I threw my back out."

"Peeing?" (Cue cheesy laugh track.)

He helped me out of the bathroom, and we walked to the parking lot, as I leaned against him making pathetic mewling sounds and hobbling like an octogenarian passing a kidney stone wearing only one shoe.

We got to the car.

"I think I'm feeling a little better, thanks."

I reached for my car keys, and tweaked my back again trying to press the button on the remote to unlock the door, instead setting off the panic alarm. Security came running and I had to explain that nothing was wrong, I just hurt my back. He points out that my fly is unzipped. I snark at him. My back hurts, and it's not funny for him to try and make me XYZ right now.

So, my friend insisted on driving since I was clearly not doing well. We got in the car, and headed to the pub that we always go to after work where all of our other friends seem to hang out at constantly unless we are in the apartment complex we live next door to each other in, or at some other public place where we all happen to conveniently be at the same time.

We sat at the booth we always sit at, and another one of my friends was showing off the new perfume she'd been working on. I cheerfully volunteered to give it a sniff, and it clearly tickles my nose. I choke back a sneeze -- barely. Just then, that cute girl that no one has actually ever seen before but which we all refer to as what's-her-name (that I'm always making eyes at but never talk to) walks by on her way to leave and I try to look suave and say hi. She looks interested, but then the sneeze sneaks back up on me.

"aaaaAAAA-ch--hurk!" I wince again.

Cute girl: "Oh my god, are you okay?!"

Me: "No, no, I'm fine, it's just my back."

Girl: "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Me, trying to act charming instead of creepy: "You could give me your phone number!"

(Success! She giggled instead of rolling her eyes.)

Girl: "Oh, damn. I don't have a pen."

Me: "Oh, I have one, hang on."

I fish in my pocket for a pen.

[Cut to a scene from this morning, where I'm rifling through a pile of laundry with the friend who is also my roommate.]

"Hey, (friend's name), where are all my underwear?"

"Oh, heh, the guys thought it would be funny if we put them in the garbage chute."

"Real funny. Seriously, where are all my underwear?"

"Don't worry, they felt bad after they sobered up and left you twenty bucks. Get some more underwear. Besides, you still have pants. Who's going to notice you're going commando to work today?"

[Cut back to the bar, where the girl has just noticed that my fly is unzipped, and while the camera is at such an angle that you can't see anything, I've clearly accidentally exposed myself while looking for a pen.]

At this point, the girl looks horrified, pulls out a can of mace, empties it into my eyes, then storms out.

Roll credits.

...

That, or I just made a face, sucked it up, washed my hands, and promptly told my girlfriend what just happened, she laughed at me, and it was decided that it should go on the blog. I'm not sure which -- my memory's getting kind of funny now that I'm an old man who hurts his back trying to operate a zipper.