I got on and once I was standing inside, it began to beep. The beep that states 'Help! I've got too much weight on me and there is no way I can take you fatties up even one floor, someones gotta get off!" Yep, that kind of beep. Luckily it was just a false alarm, and some man's hand being in the door was to blame. (Don't worry, his hand wasn't shut in the door, he was just holding it open...)Fast forward a few days. I am on another elevator with my G~Pa (who was with me during the first beeping experience). I get on, and what happens?...you guessed it, more bloody beeping! My G~Pa looks at me, laughs and tells me that I might have to get off and take the stairs.
So I believe that it is all a sign. A giant, beeping, super-sized sign that it is time for me to trade in my cupcakes for cardio... What?! That is just crazy talk right there.What am I saying?!? Forget all that treadmill talk... I am going to hold onto my cupcakes for dear life. (In fact I will clutch one in each hand as to make it a well balanced diet.) And I'll just take my chances at another beepin' elevator!
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