Just a funny story I thought I’d share.
I was over my friend’s house today because she was feeling really sick and needed some help. When she was finally able to sleep the delivery man called and said he was downstairs with the food I’d ordered earlier. I didn’t want to wake my friend, so I found her key card and left without letting her know.
Next to her door is a tiny plaque that had two sets of numbers on it, one at the top and one at the bottom. I figured the top number was the floor and the bottom was the actual room number.
I was wrong.
I had no problem going down the elevator, but an exponential amount of trouble getting back up. For some reason the elevator would not read the key card. I tried time and time again; the lady next to me even tried, but nothing worked. I could’ve went to the front desk, but what do I say. “Uh, hi. My friend lives here, but I don’t know exactly where. Also, I have her key, is there anyway you can scan it and tell me what room number it is?” Suspicious! Or, what if everyone at the desk only spoke Thai? I’m still trying to say thank you without using the wrong tones.
I just rode along with the lady I was with, and when I saw that it wasn’t my floor I went back down again. Suddenly, a brilliant idea came to me! What if I ride up with someone and by chance it will be the floor I needed. Like clockwork, another lady came on and rode up to floor 29. I wasn’t my floor, but I just got off anyway.
Then I remembered that I could ask for help. So, I asked Him and you know what happened next?
1. My friend came from around the corner.
2. I noticed the floor number on the back of the key.
3. The manager asked if I needed assistance.
Neither of the above. He highlighted the stairs sign to me. THE STAIRS SIGN. I understood: taking the stairs was my answer.
I wanted my help to be given to me on a silver platter, but it’s not always like that. Sometimes work has to be involved, so for countless floors I worked until I found the right one.