Stuck in an Elevator with My Eight-year-old Self
There are elevators that simply malfunction, and there are elevators that malfunction in ways that make you question every decision you have ever made. When I got stuck in an elevator, it shuddered to a halt between the fourth and fifth floors. I assumed it was a routine inconvenience. Then I turned and discovered my fellow passenger: myself, aged eight, clutching a rubber dinosaur and radiating a mixture of awe, suspicion, and Cap’n Crunch.
An Awkward Reunion Stuck in an Elevator
It is difficult to explain the last several decades to one’s younger self. The child’s first question–”Why did you not become an astronaut?”–was the sort of inquiry no cardiologist can prepare you for. The answer, I attempted, lay in the rise of the gig economy, the tyranny of credit scores, and the catastrophic romance that ended in a kombucha business. He wept. I wept. The dinosaur judged us both.
What unnerved me most was not his disappointment but his innocence. He still believed recess was permanent and that adults had a master plan. I, meanwhile, had developed a master plan for surviving on expired hummus while ignoring emails labeled urgent. He asked if we still liked dinosaurs. I said yes, though now they came breaded and frozen in pouches. His face collapsed like a Jenga tower.
Minutes dragged into eternities. I tried to console him by describing streaming services, but he could not fathom a world in which Saturday morning cartoons were available at all times. He asked about the flying-car revolution. I told him we got Uber instead. He asked about the moon colonies. I explained we got Facebook. More tears.
“When the Doors Finally Dinged”
When the elevator finally dinged, it was not a floor we recognized. The doors opened on a void lined with filing cabinets labeled Unfulfilled Dreams. The child stepped out, dinosaur still in hand. I stayed behind, knowing the return trip would deposit me back in the everyday purgatory of adulthood, where the only gravity I defy is on my bathroom scale.
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