I think I am in love with the woman who voices the lift at work.
Going up, she says.
She sounds bored when she says it. She sounds pissed off. She sounds like she is disgusted with her life but somehow in a very beautiful kind of way. I wonder where she was when she recorded these messages for the lift company. I wonder what she looked like.
I imagine the recording takes place in nineteen eighty nine and she has wavy, blow-dried hair and she wears large brown owl-like sunglasses into the recording room but the sound engineer makes her take them off. Then they show her a video of some lift doors closing as she records the doors closing monologue, for realism. I wonder if she blushes now whenever she uses a lift and hears her voice come out of the speakers. I wonder if she thinks, ah fuck! If only I could do it again! I have so much more life experience now.
I wonder if she is married and she looks at her husband whenever they ride the lift together and her voice comes on, and it is a secret joke between them. I wonder if she says going down, before she goes down on him. I wonder if she says doors closing, too (whatever that might mean sexually).
Maybe they have a sex game called ‘doors closing’.
I want to kill her husband.
I want to play ‘doors closing’ with her.
Her husband talks about her all the time. People are sick of hearing him talk about her. People at parties are saying: Shh! You see that guy over there? Well, don’t ask him what his wife does for a living. You’ll never be able to shut him up again. His name is Ian and he enjoys cricket and he is infertile.
There are only two floors at the place where I work.
This is nowhere near enough time to ride a lift and masturbate successfully without getting caught.