Elevator Low and Rydell High

Last night was the last Movie in the Park in Grant Park for the season, and they were showing "Grease." We had a group of six girls there, spread across three blankets, and good food and many bottles of wine for the occasion.

The crowds filled the park, covering every square inch of grass possible, facing the enormous drive-in-style screen. The sound was good, and people actually quieted during most of the dialogue to let everyone hear the movie that has been a girl's night staple since 1978. The musical parts, however, became a virtual sing-a-long and it was just hilarious hearing thousands sing about "Summer Lovin'" and "Grease Lightning." There were even a few in shiny pink satin Pink Ladies jackets and bobby socks. Well done, ladies!

Even before I made it to the park to meet Jill, I had to bring the preparations. I had a blanket in my office for the occasion, and left in such a hurry that I got down to the lobby floor and remembered it, and went back up to grab it. Boarding the elevator for the second time, I pushed the lower level lobby button, and watched the doors close.

Two others boarded on lower floors (my office is up on 27) and then we made it to the express portion of the ride where we zoomed from the 19th floor down to the lobby. Inevitably, my ears popped.

This time, however, when the elevator car passed the lobby, it jerked, bounced, and went quiet. We hung there. We were literally suspended between the two floors. Granted, we were only one (and a half!?) floors off the ground, but I couldn't help but envision a Bourne Identity-style crash to the ground, with someone inside the elevator shaft standing atop the car hanging on to the steel cables.

Or, I couldn't help but think of the guy in New York who was caught in an elevator on the weekend for 41 hours. The link shows a time-elapsed video of his ordeal. I didn't want to be THAT guy.

We used the emergency call button to talk to the lobby, and had to yell in order for them to hear us. That was a ridiculous scene—three people standing in a tiny box, yelling at the wall. If only someone could see us now.

After we identified the elevator car we were in, they urged us to wait. We did. About five minutes passed, and I felt as if we were moving. The mind does weird things, especially as one starts to panic, so I wasn't sure if I was inventing the movement or if we were really sliding downward.

We must have been sinking that last 1/2 floor (10 feet?), because all of a sudden, the doors slid open and we were there. In the lower level, safely.

Relieved, we poured out and went on our way. It had crossed my mind that I had snatched some candy from our vending machine, so that could tide me over. And, I had the blanket and a book, so I could at least be cozy and occupied.

But, I did realize that I was leaving to go buy the wine for the movie in the park, so I didn't yet have that on my person. The cups and the corkscrew? Yep, had those. Maybe we could have pulled a MacGuyver with those and gotten ourselves free?

Luckily we didn't have to, and I made it to the park in time to see Danny and Sandy frolicking on the beach.

Sidenote/tangent: did anyone else realize, as you watch Grease as an adult, that a) there are a lot of subtle sexual innuendos in the movie that went right over my head as a pre-teen, and b) Danny and Sandy and all the T-Birds and Pink Ladies look WAY older than high schoolers. They look more like they're 30. I'm just pointing it out.

Grease is the word! (for an elevator cable, too?)