A co-worker needed a ride home last night, I was happy to oblige because he's provided hours of entertainment lately by way of jokes at his expense.  You see, he can't drive right now because he hurt his neck.  From a sneeze.  Yes, Mr. Tie-quan-doe-black-belt injured his neck while sneezing.  Pussy.

When informed of this serious neck injury (which kept him out of work for a week) crocoWife suggested he might have been trying to give himself a blowjob.  And I was thinking, "Yeah!  I bet he was!  Pervert.  Sneeze, my ass!"

Anyway, while waiting for the elevator to the parking garage, the doors opened and a woman came charging out of the box.  Until she realized, hey, this ain't the garage, at which point she threw us a look as if it was our fault she tried to get off on the wrong floor.  Man, the look on her face was hilarious, her embarrassment complete, then she ran back into the elevator and repeatedly pressed the "close doors" button (which everyone knows is broken).

Our building only has three floors.  We were on the second floor, so for her to have been on the "down" elevator meant she was coming from the third floor.  That look she gave us, she clearly couldn't comprehend what happened to the parking level, as if we somehow moved the garage and replaced it with our floor so that we could purposely delay her descent.  The entire ride down I choked on my laughter to avoid snickering over her shoulder.

How can a person be so blissfully unaware of their surroundings that they can't tell the difference between a one floor elevator ride and a three floor ride?  The elevator "dings" at every floor, all you need is to be able to count to three.

Then I drove "sneezy" home.  Rain was falling in buckets so I dropped him off at the bottom of the hill, a few blocks away from his house.  I couldn't drive him directly to his doorstep, I wanted to get my car out of the rain storm and into its nice warm garage.