How many degrees does it take to get a woman out of a lift she's stuck in?
Not a joke. And the answer is a lot more than you think.
I came back from lunch in the park with El Puma and was pushing my bike through the courtyard when I heard what sounded like a shop alarm ringing - the sort that people push after there's been a robbery, except that there was no shop. It was only as I went out again having locked my bike and in search of an ice-cream that I heard thumping. I couldn't work out what it was and so I kept walking, but the sound stayed in my head. I took me all the way to the bottom of the road to make the connection between an alarm ringing and someone thumping on a door. So back I went to try and trace the sound. Sure enough, the elevator was stuck between two floors and the poor woman inside was starting to panic. She had no mobile signal in the lift and the alarm seemed to not be connected to any office (which you'd kind of hope it was).
I didn't know what to do either - I only had my French phone with me which is good for calling but has no numbers stored in it (long story). The only number I could see in the hallway was that for the firemen, and that seemed a bit drastic (if exciting). I went up to the appartment to get my other phone, but El Puma was still on his way back to the office and not answering. Thankfully, M. Alcott, the architect in an office on the ground floor came back from his lunch and I explained to him what was happening.
He immediately went into his office and found the number for the committee that manages the building. They were still on their lunch break. He left a message. He then knocked on the concierge's door. She was also still on her lunch break. He then telephoned the Agency that lets out the appartments in the building. Yup, lunch break. He then called the owners of the building (lunch break) and left a fantastic message about their need to immediately change the lift service company who seem to not be connected to the alarm and to make their way with extreme haste to the site of the current situation.
By this time a little crowd had gathered outside the lift, complete with shrugging of shoulders, bemoaning the state of technology these days, and generally coming up with ever more weird and wonderful solutions. Meanwhile, the poor woman was stuck in the lift and I was charged with calling her employer to explain why she might be, er, a tad late.
In the midst of all ths, someone spotted a number for the lift company on the outside of the life door, and so the party was over. They said they would come immediately. Well, it's France, so they said they would call someone immediately who would come. Not quite the same thing, but by this time a nice young woman had offered to keep the trapped woman company and we all dispersed with much tutting.
I still don't know why we didn't just call those lovely firemen.
