Thirty Floors

by: andee

October 22, 2008

"I am completely, one hundred percent sure I will never find a man that can tolerate me," I said, pushing my face into my hands. "I swear, I'm a social leper! I tried to tell you people, I'm perfectly content with my future as a spinster. It doesn't bother me at all. Really!"

Whitney Aaron, one of my best friends, sighed loudly from my living room couch. "What'd you do this time?" She asked, shoving a handful of chips into her mouth after she'd asked.

I rolled my eyes. "It wasn't me," I said, holding my hands up in protest. "It was John. I mean, he's so sensitive I thought he was going to cry when I told him I didn't want to share my popcorn with him."

"Natalie!" Whitney scolded, tearing her eyes from the television. "Why wouldn't you share your popcorn with John? He's a nice guy! If you want a man to tolerate you, you have to at least be nice."

"I don't like to share my popcorn, okay? Besides, who knows where his grubby little hands have been! He was weird, Whit! I swear he was. He had really small ears. I don't know what the deal was with those ears. How could he even hear anything I was saying?" So I didn't want to share my popcorn. What was the big deal?

In my defense, he did have really small ears.

"You're hopeless," Whitney said, turning away from me and back to the TV. "We practically hand wrap this guy and serve him to you on a silver platter and you still find something wrong with him. He was handpicked you know! From a group of 5 very eligible bachelors. He was the best one, and of course, he wasn't good enough for Natalie." She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly and I huffed as I walked into the kitchen to make myself a drink. So I didn't have a good date. That didn't mean I couldn't have a good night on my own.

I reached for the cheap tequila in the back of my freezer and smiled happily as I unscrewed the cap from the bottle. "Don't be rude," I called to Whitney, ignoring her comment and pouring the liquor into a shot glass. "Want a shot?"

Whitney coughed from her spot on the couch. "Uh, Nat? It's Tuesday night," she said, standing up and waddling toward the kitchen. "And I'm pregnant."

I glanced down at her extremely large belly and nodded. "Oh yeah, I forgot," I said, throwing the shot to the back of my throat and swallowing slowly. "Mmm, that burns."

Whitney rolled her eyes at the exact moment my front door burst open. "Please tell me you're home early because John fell head over heels for you and he has so much respect and love for you he couldn't take you home with him. Because that's the only excuse you have for not sleeping with that guy," Erin McRae, my other best friend, said loudly as she waltzed into my apartment. "Honestly, Natty. It's 8:30. Why are you home already?" She stared at me, exasperated. It had been mostly her idea to find me an "eligible bachelor."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I'm a terrible person and I deserve to be christened with a chastity belt, I don't know. I didn't like him," I said, pouring another two shots of tequila. I knew Erin would take one with me. "And he had really small ears." I handed a shot glass to her and she rolled her eyes as she took it and downed it in one fluid motion.

"Details, Nat! We're not asking you to nibble on the guy's lobes or anything! Just sleep with someone already! It's been six months!" She threw her arms up in desperation. "Don't you have needs you want fulfilled or something?"

I shrugged again. It's not that I didn't like sex – honestly, who didn't? It's just that…well, I didn't need a man. "That's what I have Bob for," I said, smiling. "He's great."

"Okay, one, it's not normal for you to call your vibrator by an actual person's name. That's just creepy," Erin said, hopping up and sitting on the counter.

"I didn't name him after anyone, stupid. It's B.O.B. – Battery Operated Boyfriend. I thought it was pretty clever myself." I laughed at my own joke and turned to the fridge, debating over leftovers.

"Two," Erin continued, "You can't honestly compare a vibrator to an actual man."

"What's so bad about that? At least this way, I don't have to actually talk to him or make out with him or any of that other crappy stuff. I just get one hundred percent satisfaction, one hundred percent of the time. I'm pretty sure neither one of you can say that about your men," I said, wiggling my eyebrows. What? It was true.

"I also can't say my boyfriend comes with a set of Double A's and is made out of purple plastic like you can," Whitney reminded me, patting me on the back before squeezing beside me inside the refrigerator door. "Ooh, can I have that?" She asked, pointing to a large leftover slice of pizza. I shrugged and she pounced, ripping the plastic wrap from the slice.

I laughed and looked at Erin. "Is it so bad that I don't want a boyfriend?" I asked her.

She shrugged. "I don't know, it's kind of weird. I just don't get why," she said, raising her eyebrows. "I mean, we both have men. What do you do with yourself when we're out with them?"

"What do you mean, what do I do with myself? You two aren't the only things I have to occupy myself with, you know," I said, getting defensive.

Whitney looked at me skeptically as she stuffed the last bit of crust from the pizza into her mouth. "Wha-e-err," she slurred, her mouth full.

"I just think you're scared," Erin said, her mouth turning at the corners in a smile. "You know the perfect place to find a man and you still have yet to go there." She was pointing her finger at me accusingly.

I rolled my eyes. So she was going to bring this up again?

This whole "Find Natalie a Boyfriend" thing started earlier in the year, after I'd gotten dumped by Tim, this guy I'd been dating for about oh, three days. Whitney and Erin compared it to the end of the world. Seriously.

They had this stupid idea that all I had to do was get on this "magical" elevator at the Elegance Hotel, this mega-huge 30-story hotel in the heart of downtown, ride it from the bottom to the top, and somewhere along the way, I would find the man of my dreams.

After all, it had happened to both of them.

I still didn't understand how it was possible for both of my best friends to find love in the exact same place, but I wasn't chalking it up to magic, by any means. It was a coincidence at best.

Whitney's fateful day occurred two years before, when she'd wandered onto the elevator out of pure curiosity while waiting for a business meeting to start. The hotel was huge and she figured she would take a look around in the few minutes she had left to wait. She got on to the elevator in the far right corner at the first floor and hit the "30" button, just to see how long it would take to get to the top.

When the elevator stopped at the fourth floor and Ray stepped on, the rest was history. Now she was marrying him and eight months pregnant with his baby boy.

Erin's story, while a little wilder, was generally the same. She had been dating George for a while and they thought they'd "spice things up" with a hotel stay. Little did poor George know, Erin took the same elevator Whitney had taken only three months before and met Lyle. They never made it past the 12th floor. Erin swears to this day that the emergency stop button was responsible for her finding her true love.

Now, according to my friends, it was my turn to visit the magic elevator. I'd been effectively avoiding it up until this point by accepting their blind date offers and such, but my luck was wearing thin. It was only a matter of time before they brought it up again. There were only so many men in the city willing to go out with a total bitch, after all.

"Erin, get real," I said, rolling my eyes for effect. "That stupid elevator story is a coincidence! It's not a damn magic elevator, oh my God."

Whitney's eyes widened from her spot next to me. "Don't say that!" She said, clutching her chest dramatically. "There's some kind of magic in there, Natty, I promise you that. There has to be. It's like the three of us were chosen to find love there, like a little romance movie or something…" She smiled sappily and sighed. "It would just be so sweet if you could find someone, too," she said, tearing up a little.

I groaned. "Don't even pull the tears out, fatty. You're pregnant, I know how easy those suckers come!"

She rolled her eyes and pushed me lightly. "You're stupid if you don't just try, Natalie," she said, her eyes serious. "And I'm not fat, I'm pregnant."

I sighed. Erin was staring at me with the same eyes and I was starting to get nervous. I hated when people stared at me – it freaked me out.

"Fine! Goddamn, if you promise to quit staring at me like I'm a show monkey, I'll play your stupid game. Whatever. But it's not going to work!" I shouted, glaring at the two of them.

Whitney smiled happily and Erin squealed in excitement, grabbing my arm and practically ripping it off. "Oh my God! Whitney! We did it!" She said, jumping halfway across the kitchen with me in tow. "We have to get her ready!"

Whitney grinned from her spot at the fridge, reached in and grabbed a can of half-eaten pineapple, then followed behind us. "Come on, show monkey," she said, ruffling my hair from behind. "This will be fun!"

An hour later, I found myself standing in front of the notorious Elegance Hotel, staring up at the 30-story monstrosity with a faint heart. "I'm not doing this," I said, turning around so I could hail a cab. "This is the stupidest thing I've ever done to shut you two up."

Whitney rolled her eyes and turned so her belly was blocking my path. "Don't be an idiot, Nat," she said, grabbing me by the shoulders and turning me around. "Go."

I looked up again and the towering mass of brick and glass stared back at me, taunting me. I didn't want to go in there. I could only imagine the terrible things that would probably happen to me if I did what they were asking.

Guaranteed, I'd get on the elevator and the only person who'd speak to me would be an 80-year-old woman. I couldn't stand the thought of disappointing my friends with yet another story of failure. Besides, I was getting a little sick of it myself. I'd learned to face the facts – I was just not lucky in love. Like I said, I was committed to my future as a cat lady.

I sighed. "Can we please do this later?" I asked, glancing at my watch. I had butterflies in my stomach, though I wasn't entirely sure they weren't just a side effect of the tequila shots.

"No," Erin said firmly, pushing me towards the door. "If you don't go through that fucking revolving door and march your sexy little ass to that elevator and get on it, I'm going to out you as the world's biggest Harry Potter fan and you'll never even get another date, let alone get lucky. Ever again!" She shouted the last part and I half expected her to follow it up with an evil laugh, Cruella DeVille style. She didn't, to my disappointment.

"Ugh!" I shouted, throwing my hands down to my sides and marching towards the revolving door. I stopped when I got to it and watched as it spun in front of me. I was never good at those things. I glanced behind me at my two friends who were staring at the back of my head expectantly. "Wait, how do I know when to go?" I asked, looking at Erin.

She rolled her eyes. "Natalie! It's a door, for Christ's sakes!"

So I'd made a final attempt to get out of it, weak as it was. Since it didn't work, I figured the best thing to do would be to suck up my pride, get on the damn elevator and prove to my friends that not everyone was born to fall in love.

"Fine then," I said, turning back towards the door. "Peace," I said, offering them a last wave as I disappeared into the revolving room that just so happened to also be a door. Seriously, who the fuck invented those things?

Once I stumbled my way out of the door and I was dizzy enough to be playing a game of Pin the Tail on the Donkey, I spotted the elevators and made my way towards them.

The hotel was one of those insanely fancy ones, with the marble floors and silver fountains that may as well have spewed liquid gold instead of water. I rolled my eyes at a lion statue – so typical – and started to inch closer to the "magic elevator."

I rolled my eyes. The stupid thing looked just like every other elevator in the place. There was nothing special about it. I turned back towards the front of the hotel and laughed when I saw Erin and Whitney, both of their faces pressed against the glass of the window. I waved and turned back to focus on my mission, as ridiculous as it was.

As I approached the elevator, my stomach started the nervous fluttering from earlier and I had to take a deep breath to steady myself. Why was I so damn nervous about this? It was so stupid.

I pressed the "up" button in the middle of the lobby and waited patiently for "the chosen one" to open. It took three tries, but finally the "magic elevator" decided it would allow me to enter.

I stepped in, relieved that no one was around to follow behind me. I pressed the "30" button and waited for the doors to close. I was still alone as the elevator started its climb.

First floor.

Second floor.

Third floor.

Fourth floor.

I sighed. So far so good. No annoying men popping in unexpectedly to sweep me off my feet. Gross.

Fifth floor. Ding!

My heart pumped erratically in my chest as I waited anxiously for the doors to open. It couldn't be happening already, could it? On the fifth floor? I smoothed the black shirt Erin and Whitney had chosen for me and took a deep breath as I watched the doors open, feeling slightly idiotic for falling into the fairy tale my best friends had created.

I didn't see my dream man waiting on the other side of the golden doors, however. It was an actual 80-year-old woman – my worst fear! I smiled politely at her, trying to hide my disappointment. I didn't want to have to explain to her why I looked so crestfallen. "Well, actually, Ma'am, I was waiting for my dream man to appear from thin air!"

Sixth floor.

The lady nodded at me and I watched in amusement as her white-blue hair shook on top of her head. "I hate these damn things," she said, tapping the end of her cane against the door. "Always afraid I'm going to get stuck in them."

I froze. Oh God. I hadn't thought of that. What if I got stuck on this elevator with this old woman?

Seventh floor.

I was still waiting for the ground to shake and the elevator to shudder to a stop.

Eighth floor.

I was making it, slowly but surely. Please God, I thought to myself, please let me get off of this thing with a tiny bit of my sanity left.

Ninth floor.

"You alright, dear?" The old woman asked me, her eyes on mine.

I nodded. "Yeah, uh-huh. Thanks." Stupid old woman.

Tenth floor.

Was it wrong to call an old woman stupid?

Eleventh floor.

Twelfth floor.

No, it wasn't wrong, I had decided. Rude, but not wrong.

Fourteenth floor.

Where was thirteen?

Fifteenth floor.

"Did you know they don't use the number thirteen in a lot of tall buildings?" The old woman asked me, what was left of her eyebrows raised in question. "It's unlucky."

"Oh, really?" I replied politely. Okay, so maybe I shouldn't have called her stupid. I get it.

Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one…

This wasn't looking good. I hated Whitney and Erin in that moment.

Twenty-second floor. Ding!

The doors opened and the old lady stepped out, but not before wishing me good luck. "I hope you don't get stuck in here," she said, beating the side of the tiny room one last time with her cane before stepping off.

I watched as the doors closed behind her and sighed as I started upward again.

Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine…

"Oh for the love of God!" I shouted, practically ripping the hair out of my head. "I hate love!" I couldn't stand to be in that stupid elevator for another second. I was almost to the top and nothing had happened. Absolutely nothing, except for the random, fact-spouting grandma. I was taking the stairs back down.

The elevator doors opened on the thirtieth floor and I was too busy trying to escape to notice that while I was the only one getting off, someone else was getting on. A very tall, dark, handsome someone else. Who I'd just so happened to run into head on.

"Jesus!" I shouted, rubbing my throbbing forehead. "What the fuck! Why do you hate me, God? I swear, I get on the stupid elevator and do all the stupid things they tell me to do and this is what happens to me? I get a grandma and a concussion? How does this make sense?"

The fact that I was talking to myself was totally lost on me, of course, considering how I did it all the time.

"Are you alright?" He asked, taking a step back from me as I ranted.

I looked up and met the most gorgeous set of green eyes I have ever seen in my life. These were like the eyes they talked about in romance novels, all deep and mysterious and perfect. They just managed to piss me off even more. Of course I would run into this beautiful man now, while I was raging like a lunatic. "Oh, I'm just great," I said sarcastically, leaning against the wall of the elevator. "Fabulous. Wonderful. Couldn't be better," I snapped.

"I'm really sorry," he said, looking down at the ground. "I'm sure God doesn't have it out for you, though." He shrugged his shoulders and I almost laughed, but I was still too pissed off at the circumstances.

So I rode the damn elevator to the thirtieth floor and all I got was a history lesson from the octogenarian. Plus, I'd yelled at this beautiful stranger and managed to confirm to him that I was a psycho atheist with anger management problems – all in the span of one minute.

"It's fine," I said, looking away from him. He just had to be amazingly gorgeous, didn't he? It figured.

He cleared his throat. "Were you uh, going down?" He asked, pointing to the elevator doors that he was holding open with his hand.

"Oh," I said, glancing at the doors. "Yeah, whatever. Doesn't matter now." I shrugged my shoulders and watched his hand drop from the door.

"Oh," he said, our conversation tapering off into silence.

I breathed a sigh of relief once the elevator kicked in and started going downward.

Twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven…

"Look, I'm really sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't even see you. I was looking down and I don't really know what happened, but I'm sorry." He looked at me earnestly and it almost broke my heart.

Except my heart was cold and made of stone, so that was impossible.

"Don't worry about it, it was my fault," I said, shaking my head. Of course he was beautiful and polite.

He nodded. "Thanks."

Twenty-six, twenty-five, twenty-four…

He cleared his throat and leaned against the railing of the elevator. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him fidgeting nervously with a folder he was carrying.

Why did I have to be such a cold, hard bitch? I was so rude to him and he was obviously uncomfortable. It took every ounce of self-control I had to stop myself from banging my head against the doors. I was such an idiot it almost hurt.

He cleared his throat again and chuckled nervously, looking over at me and shrugging. "Cold," he said, pointing to his throat. "Stupid winter."

While he was talking, I was practically staring a hole into his head like he was Tupac alive and in the flesh once again. He was actually speaking to me? After I'd so blatantly made a fool of myself? Wow. I reached into my purse and pulled out a wrapped piece of candy and held it out to him. "Want a peppermint?" I asked.

Hey, it wasn't much, but at least I was trying. He smiled and took the candy from me, unwrapping it and popping it into his mouth. It was almost mesmerizing, the way he did it. He was like a living, breathing work of art. Human art. And I liked looking at it.

"Thanks," he said, giving me a small smile.

My heart actually pitter-pattered. Gross.

Twenty-three, twenty-two, twenty-one…

It hit me on the twenty-first floor. Maybe he was the man of my dreams! Maybe the elevator was magical! Maybe he'd already fallen head over heels for me and was going to ask me out any minute!

Maybe Whitney and Erin were right!

I was excited for a minute before I remembered that I'd totally killed the mood only seconds before. Oops. There it was – there was no magical elevator. My best friends were just coincidentally lucky. Which I was obviously not.

I looked over at him and he nodded at me, giving me one of those awkward I-just-saw-you-looking-at-me smiles. Ugh, I could have died.

So much for the fairy tale romance.

Twenty, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen…

I was plotting revenge on my two best friends when he spoke again.

"How's your forehead?" He asked, pointing to it. My hand flew up instantly and I winced – it was actually kind of sore.

"Oh," I said, laughing a little. "It's fine."

He looked at me strangely and nodded slightly. "Good. Sorry again."

"You can stop apologizing now," I said, looking at him. "I'm not adding you to my hit list or anything."

He chuckled and his eyes met mine. "Well that's good."

Sixteen, fifteen, fourteen, twelve…

"Did you know they don't have a thirteenth floor because it's unlucky?" I asked after a few more seconds of silence, pointing to the floor indicator at the top of the doors. He looked along with me. "See? No thirteen."

"Hmm," he said, rubbing his chin. "That's kind of weird."

"Yeah," I said, not knowing what else I was supposed to respond with. Stupid old lady. I hated her and her useless bits of information again.

Eleven, ten, nine, eight…

"Long elevator ride," he said awkwardly, shifting in his spot.

I laughed nervously, thumbing the hem of my shirt. "Yeah. Really long."

Oh God, I'd completely freaked him out just by standing next to him. This was so like me. This was why I didn't have boyfriends, damn it!

The seconds ticked by and I could practically hear the hands of his watch clicking along with them, it was so silent.

Seven, six, five, four…

It was blatantly obvious that he was trying to avoid my eyes. I didn't blame him, really. I was a freak, after all. A total weirdo with no class or grace.

'Only three floors to go,' I thought to myself, wishing that I had never gotten on the elevator in the first place. I told Whitney and Erin that I didn't want a boyfriend, and I had meant it.

I still couldn't believe I had actually gone through with it. Needless to say, I wasn't very surprised at the outcome.

Three, two, one, ding!

"Thank God," I muttered, practically shoving myself out of the elevator and into the hotel lobby. I used every bit of self-control to stop myself from turning around and checking to see if he was following me out, but for some reason, I thought I felt his eyes on my back anyway.

I caught a glimpse of Whitney and Erin standing outside the revolving door, but I stopped in my tracks. These stupid freakin' doors! What was the point of them? I stood there for a second, staring, waiting for a chance to dash into the whirl of glass and people.

"I hate those things," I heard a familiar voice say from behind. I turned around and was instantly sucked in by those stupid eyes of his, which were now surprisingly friendly looking.

What? Was Mr. Beautiful, Mr. Magic Elevator, was he actually talking to me? Out of his own free will?

Was I supposed to respond? My brain couldn't quite figure it out, so I went with it. "I know, right?" I said, shaking my head. My heart fluttered nervously as he watched me. "I never know when to go."

He smiled and nodded as a few people pushed past us and walked right through the door with no problem. "How do they do that?" He asked, stepping closer to me.

I shook my head. "They're very brave."

He laughed and took another step so he was standing beside me. "Want to go together?" He asked, nodding towards the door.

My breath caught in my throat as I looked up at him and giggled nervously. After I composed myself, I sucked some air into my lungs. "As long as you promise I'll have all of my limbs intact after we make it through," I said.

He smiled his brilliant smile again and I practically melted into a puddle of goo right in front of him. He shocked me as he reached down and grabbed my hand, giving it a light squeeze. "Promise," he said, tugging on my arm slightly. "Come on, we just have to commit and go for it."

I nodded, determined, and gripped his hand just a little tighter, because I could. Why not, right? He looked down at our hands joined together and smiled over at me.

In the next instant, I was being pulled through an opening in the revolving door, the wind from the force of the doors blowing my dark hair from my face. "Oh God," I squealed, pushing myself against the stranger as we whirled our way to the front. "Why does this feel so weird?"

He laughed and I blushed when I realized he was still holding my hand as he pulled me from the doors and onto the sidewalk. I glanced over at Whitney and Erin who were standing together, arms hooked, staring at us with their mouths wide open. "Go!" I mouthed to them, nodding inconspicuously at stranger boy. They were not going to make this any more awkward than it was already.

They looked at each other and grinned, then scurried off to a Chinese restaurant across the street. I looked up to my Knight in Shining Armor and flashed him my biggest smile. "Thanks. You saved my life," I said, motioning back to the hotel. "Those things have got to be dangerous."

The man smiled back at me and squeezed my hand again, which he was still holding. He looked down and blushed a faint shade of pink before dropping it. "I'm Kyle," he said, his eyes still on mine.


He was silent for a second, still looking at me as if he had something he wanted to say. My heart was thudding in my chest from the skin-to-skin contact we'd just had and I wished more than anything I could put my hand back into his.

I was actually falling for this stupid fairy tale crap. I was totally head-over-heels for Elevator Boy.

Too bad I was still a fidgeting moron and he was probably scared for his life.

Then again, the way he was looking at me was sort of promising. He looked like he was genuinely happy about something, and that couldn't be bad. Could it?

"That was fun," he said finally, smiling. "We should do it again sometime."

I laughed. "What, ride the elevator?" I shook my head. "I'm never getting on that thing again."

He looked at me curiously and raised his eyebrows. "Well, I'd ride that thing every day," he said, his smile growing. "If it meant I got a chance to meet a pretty girl like you."

Oh. My. God. Did he just say that? Did he really just say that? I practically squealed, I know I did.

My cheeks were flaming hot and I knew what I must look like, blushing like a little girl. I couldn't think of anything to say, so I just sort of…laughed. "Heh." It came out more like some kind of animal sound.

I turned toward the Chinese restaurant where my friends had disappeared to and sighed when I saw them standing outside of it, staring at us from across the street and pointing like we were celebrities or something.

"So," he said, touching my shoulder briefly to get my attention. My skin burned from the contact. "It was nice to meet you."

I stared at him as he turned to go. What? "That's it?" I said, without thinking. My eyes widened and I covered my open mouth with my hand. Oh my God, talk about diarrhea of the mouth.

He stopped in his tracks and turned on his heels, a huge smile on his face. "I was hoping it wasn't," he confessed, his eyes on me. "I'm not very good at these kinds of things," he said, shrugging.

My entire body flooded with relief and I almost collapsed right there on the sidewalk. "Me either," I breathed. "Terrible, in fact. In case you couldn't tell."

He chuckled and made his way back to my side, grabbing my hand again. "I really didn't want to let go earlier."

Even my toes were warm as I felt his hand against mine, our skin touching ever so gently. So this was what it was like. This was what it was supposed to feel like.

"I didn't want you to," I said, my eyes on his.

I watched him as he took a deep breath, his grin getting wider with each inch as he moved in closer to me, our faces just a tiny distance apart. "I'm glad," he whispered, his lips almost touching mine as he spoke.

I shivered against the warmth of his body and smiled my cheesiest smile before he closed the space between us and his lips brushed against mine. It was short and sweet and he took a step back afterwards, trying to judge what I was thinking.

I guess the look in my eyes was all the reassurance he needed, because I felt him suck in his breath, then relax as he leaned against me and took my face in his hands. He kissed me again, gently, pressing his lips against mine in the most deliciously slow way. He breathed against me, his chest rising and falling. What the hell? Had I really just met this guy? In the magic elevator? Was I actually kissing him?

I faintly heard a muffled scream from across the street and didn't have to pull away from Kyle to know it was Whitney and her overactive hormones.

Kyle squeezed my hand again and oh, I could have died right there on the spot. "So Natalie," he said, resting his forehead against my (sore, but who cares?) one. "I know it's late, but would you like to have dinner with me?"

I looked back at my friends, then to him with a smile. "As long as it's not Chinese."

Author's Note - Aww, it's just so sweet! Ha ha! I know that was a terribly long one-shot. Oh well, I tried to make it shorter but I liked it how it was. MAN! I have been posting like a mad woman lately!

I got the idea from a story I read on CNN's website about Craiglist's Missed Connections page. (It's a page where people can go to post ads about people they randomly met and never got a chance to get their number, blah blah blah. For example, "I met this girl on the subway, she had on a yellow dress. We talked about baseball." And there they sit, hoping they find their "missed connection." It's like a personal ad but for a specific person. I know, it's so romantic.) A woman in the article said there was this one elevator in the Macy's in New York City that was super popular in the Missed Connections page, and I thought it was the sweetest thing I'd ever heard. That was the birth of the "magic elevator."

I know it was cheesy, but in my opinion, there's always a little bit of magic involved when two people fall in love. ;-) I hope you liked it! Let me know what you thought!