I weep for you, F.L.A. I weep.

Dear Future Leaders of America:
It has come to my attention during work hours at a large-ish University in Atlanta that I must resign myself to the impending Armageddon. Why, you ask? Uh, has reading become a thing of the past? Is it as out of fashion as eating? My daily elevator travails have taken on a level of the absurd as the term 'Express' rings no bells for you, FLAs. Signs that say 'Floors 1 & 7-10 only' might as well be written in a foreign language (one that you have forgotten as soon as your reqs are satisfied). My voice has betrayed me. It's reacted to the need to read by becoming hoarse. It creaks now "this is Express"-- you might not have heard-- if your furious button-pressing is any indication. Unfortunately for me & you, pushing 2 until your finger bleeds will not force the elevator to go your way. Holding the button is also, sadly, not going to get you there. If the button doesn't light up indicating it heard your desire, you are lost-- lost in the parallel world between 1 & 7-10. If you are going down to 1 (by default), you will not be able to change Express' mind on the way back up-- so please, step out of Elevator. Staring forlornly at the panel of buttons will not change Elevator's mind. Giving him puppy eyes & whimpers will get you nowhere. Your now substantially longer visit with Elevator will not reward you with a trip up to 3. Elevator de Express has no loyalty to those that visit with him.

It is remarkable what technology can do these days. Otis would be proud.

--Gaby