An open-and-shut case of lift failure

One Sunday morning just before 10am, at the end of a long night shift, I delivered a letter to a guest on the ninth floor.

I decided to take the lift back to the ground floor. It stopped on every floor; by the time it reached the fifth it was full - counting the fifth itself and a mezzanine floor, there were still six more to go.

At every remaining floor, the doors opened and closed on guests patiently waiting for an empty lift.

Most of the passengers in the lift were heading for the ground floor and an NCP-run car park which they had to vacate by 10am to avoid an excess time penalty. Unfortunately, after closing its doors on the mezzanine floor, the lift shot straight back up to the ninth floor without completing the all-important final stage of the journey.

Despite the hurry, the guests saw the funny side of things. They needed to, because we proceeded to stop, in a leisurely way, at every floor on the way down again. Each time the doors opened and closed on the same people, patiently waiting.

I jammed my finger on the ground-floor button, hoping to bully the lift into submission. It ignored me, and, on reaching the mezzanine, whizzed back like a homing pigeon to the ninth floor.

Once again, on its descent it stopped at every intervening floor - only this time the faces of the waiting guests showed no trace of amusement. There was little I could do except lead the charge out of the lift when we reached the mezzanine floor for the third time.

I led the amazingly sanguine lift guests down the stairs - only to see the lift waiting, mockingly, for us when we arrived on the ground floor.

Thankfully, I managed to negotiate a waiver on any excess parking charges as a result of our extended lift ride.