So the Pope and a Rabbi get into an Elevator....

After my stint of unemployment over the summer, I was finally hired by a Mechanical Engineering firm in the Philly suburbs and have been happily working there for the last 5 months. The company develops parts for commercial and industrial cars/trucks for the general public and dealerships/repair shops. It's a pretty huge company with 4 locations around the United States and overseas (particularly China which is pretty awesome and I hope I get sent there for a scouting trip one day.)

The particular department I work for is considered New Product, Aftermarket which means we develop parts specifically for repairs. In particular, we take parts that are already manufactored by other congolmerates (like Ford, GMC, Chrysler etc.) and make them better and cheaper for the every day consumer. I swear it's legal--we have an attorney on staff who looks up copyrights and all that jazz. I assist in the development stage--I order samples from competitors, keep our team organized and on track, send out samples for testing, keep an inventory of all parts we currently have, help with the sample database and all information put up on our website, assist in buying, take pictures of all products for our teams overseas, research new products and contact dealerships for sale quotes. I'm basically the office bitch. I am the go-to-girl for everything the engineers need to keep the work flowing and the money rolling in. And seriously if you think I know anything about what I'm doing, you are surely mistaken. I don't know anything about the parts we sell. True, at this point I can point out and name specific parts (like cam phasers, VVT solenoids, mass airflow sensors) but I couldn't tell you what they do or where they're located in a car. That's what my Daddy is for :) Although, I have come up with a pretty lengthy list of parts that could be used to kill or injure a person. Case in point; a steering shaft

It may not look like much, but let me tell you this thing is all steel and heavy as hell. One blow to the head with this baby you're a goner. I know, it's completely morbid and strange but when you spend your first week moving 3 boxes of these, part by part, your mind tends to wander. Wander to bludgering someone's head with one of these beasts.

Also, I work with men for the majority. In my deparment, I am one of 3 women and the youngest of all. Because of this, my co-workers all seem to treat me like they're little sister or daughter. Always asking me if I need help picking things up, feeling guilty when they give me work and busting my chops at every possible moment. Not gonna lie, it's actually pretty comforting and a great change compared to the hell I went thru with my last job--where everyone hated me for no reason and actively sought to undermine and ultimately have me fired. It's a family and team that I'm surrounded by now and we are always laughing and joking around while working our asses off. I love where I'm working now--even though I haven't a clue or real interest in car parts.

So on top of my regular duties, I am also the office bitch and get passed around to multiple departments to help out quite frequently. This can be anything from taking pictures of projects, entering price information and shipping parts to foreign countries. I'm basically on everyone's beck and call and am there to make everyone's jobs easier. But more often than not, I am being sent down to our warehouse to drop off parts to our engineering labs. The lab is down 3 floors, so if the parts are very heavy it can be a bit difficult--especially since there isn't much to me. Luckily, my company does have a small elevator that is right by my department and dumps you out right in front of the engineering labs.

Well sometimes.

My first week at work, I was asked to make one of those trips down to the warehouse with a huge box of parts. Seeing the size of the box, my supervisor suggested taking the elevator and said she'd accompany me and show me around the warehouse. As we walked by the director of my department's desk he asked where we going. My supervisor explained and my director smirked and replied, "Good luck. You have your cellphone right?" I found  that a bit odd, as most companies have strict cell phone policies--which I later learned was not the case here-- but then my manager ran back to her desk to get her cellphone and thanked our director. As we got closer to the elevator she explained; "Yeah. The elevator gets stuck. Like a lot. And we won't know you're stuck inside unless you call us. People have gotten stuck for hours before."

Excuse me?

"What do you mean stuck?" I asked.

"Stuck. Like between floors and the doors won't open. Hasn't happened in a few weeks but better safe than sorry."

Yeah.

"So what happens if it does get stuck," I asked again.

"Well we'd have to call this company to come out and fix it. Or the fire company."

Holy crap.

Needless to say, I was extremely hesitant about getting onto this metal contraption. Especially with the prospect of possibly being stuck inside for hours. But then I thought maybe she was just exaggerating or this was some sort of hazing/inside joke within the company. You know like how in high school upperclassmen would tell the freshmen that there was an indoor pool on the 3rd floor. Maybe this was one of those things.

Then I saw this sign inside the elevator.

Obviously not a joke.

That first ride was a bit rough. It lasted for literally 2 minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Every jolt and every pause had me so freaked out that I was gripping the safety rail inside for dear life. I also tried to keep a conversation going as long as possible to keep my mind calm. Thank God we made it downstairs--the minute the doors opened, I ran for dear life and opted not to take the ride back upstairs once our tour was done; figuring I shouldn't test my luck.

That first ride aside, I've had to make pretty frequent trips on the elevator to the warehouse. Usually I try to avoid it as much as possible but sometimes there's just nothing I can do when I can't physically carry something down 3 flights of stairs. I almost have to do it twice a day at this point. And I have taken my director's advice to heart--I take my cellphone every single time. But every once in a while I do forget and usually only remember that I don't have it once the doors are closing behind me. Naturally the panic sets in and I swear it's going to be that time that my luck has run out. Naturally it'll be the one time I forget my cellphone that the damn elevator will break.

Luckily it hasn't happened yet. Thank God! But it has made me start to think about what I would truthfully do if I was trapped inside an elevator for hours on end.

My first thought is that I would completely shut down and have a full out panic attack. I am a very big claustrophobic and being trapped in a small area scares me down to my core. Like its actually pretty bad. I started realizing it back in high school but it got ten times worse in college. Especially when I was constantly called in to one on one meetings behind closed doors. Particularly, advisor meetings once a semester where I had to pick my classes with my Professor. The minute her door closed, I could feel my pulse racing and my hands shaking. It got so bad that I had to start asking her to keep her office door open, otherwise I'd be rushing the meeting and counting down the minutes til I could bolt out the door. I'd literally be sitting there talking to myself, trying to slow down my heart. Don't ask me why, can not explain it. But I definitely know it's a trigger for anxiety for me, so being stuck in a 5 x 5 metal box is not appealing in the least. I'd literally be clawing at the doors and crying hysterically. Yeah, not good.

 Second thought is maybe I'd just lay down and take a little nap. Trust me, I've thought this out a bit and actually looked at the lay out of the elevator to see the most comfortable position. I could either sit up against the wall and fall asleep, or snuggle up into one of the corners. True, the floor is probably disgusting and is in dyer need of a good shampooing and it's not exactly comfortable, but as long as I'm wearing a hoodie--which I have been a lot lately--I'd be fine. Just pop my hood on my head and fall asleep. Trust me, I've found ways to sleep in worse. I know it sounds crazy, but what else would you do while trapped!

Third thought is to make sure I have some sort of activity in my pocket every time I get on the elevator. True, if I have my cellphone with me there's plenty to do. But eventually your battery will die and then you're screwed. First option would be a ball of some sort to bounce off the walls and play catch with. Total Steve McQueen from The Great Escape inspiration. If he could entertain himself in "the Cooler" with just a baseball and a mitt for weeks on end, I'm sure it could entertain me for a few hours.

Hell I may even hum the opening credits song while I'm doing it--I truly hope you all know what I'm referring to but if you don't go rent The Great Escape, it won't disappoint. But carrying a baseball and mitt around with me is a little whacky, and uncomfortable to say the least--where exactly would one store something like that? The only other option is for me to constantly have a book on me at all times. I should also start wearing pants with really big pockets to suffice these activities.

If anyone has any other options for "keeping my sanity in the inevitable case that Penny gets trapped on an elevator," please feel free to inbox me. Really anything that will keep me stay entertained and sane for a few hours. Actually, it's really funny that I am stressing this much about just being trapped on the elevator. The elevator crashing to the ground, Tower of Terror style, hasn't even crossed my mind.

Guess I have my priorities straight.

Anddddddddddddd I just got an e-mail to head down to the lab to pick up some parts. Wish me luck :/ Send a rescue squad if you don't hear from me in a few days!