This morning while I was in the elevator, I was joined by a gentleman with a rolling case (not sure if it was of the suit- or brief- variety, but either way, it had wheels). We both entered on the first floor, and soon found out we were both headed to the third floor.
At the second floor, we made an unexpected stop, and were consequently joined by a well-dressed young woman and her Starbucks. She was on her way to the fifth floor, and would be along for the ride as well.
As we approached the third floor, the doors opened, and the young woman scooted back as to let us both through. I motioned to Rolling Case Man, and said, “Go on, you first.”
To which he replied, “No, no – after you.”
This little tennis match went on for about 20 seconds, when I finally relented and went out the elevator doors. As I exited, I heard the girl in the elevator sigh and say, “I just love Southerners.”
So do I, lady in the elevator. So do I.