Jacob Price vs. the Elevator
Jacob Price was running late. His tie was crooked, his resume crumpled in
his bag, and sweat already clung to his palms. The job interview of his
life was scheduled for 10:00 a.m. on the 42nd floor of the Everstone
Building. At 9:54, he skidded across the marble lobby floor and into the
elevator, praying he’d make it.
The doors slid shut, the elevator shuddered once—and then stopped dead
between the 17th and 18th floors.
Jacob blinked. Pressed the button for 42 again. Then pressed “Door Open.”
Then all the other buttons. Nothing.
“No, no, no…” he muttered, jabbing at the emergency call button. Silence.
The elevator groaned. Jacob groaned louder. He slumped against the wall
and checked his watch. 9:56.
At first, panic took hold. He imagined his would-be boss frowning at the
empty chair. He pictured the receptionist writing unreliable next to his
name.
By 10:05, panic turned into frustration. He punched the air, then
immediately regretted it because he had no water and no idea how long he’d
be stuck.
By 10:20, boredom settled in. He tried whistling. Then humming. Then, with
no one to judge him, he launched into a full, slightly off-key rendition
of a pop song he barely knew the lyrics to. His voice echoed off the steel
walls. Piper, his cat, would’ve hissed at him if she were there.
By 10:40, Jacob started talking to his reflection in the brushed metal.
“Do you even want this job, Jacob? Answer me honestly.”
His reflection glared back.
“Of course you do! You need money. Stability. Health insurance.”
“But at what cost?” he countered dramatically. “At what cost!”
When the elevator finally jolted back to life at 11:02, Jacob stumbled out
onto the nearest floor, hair mussed, tie dangling, and eyes wild from his
hour-long existential crisis.
He decided right then: he didn’t need the job. He would figure something
else out. Something better.
The next morning, his phone buzzed. It was the company.
“We were impressed with your… unique resilience,” the hiring manager said.
“We’d like to offer you the position.”
Jacob stared at the phone, dumbfounded. After everything—the panic, the
singing, the dramatic debate with his reflection—he got the job anyway.
He laughed until tears rolled down his cheeks. The elevator, it seemed,
had given him the best interview of his life.