Fresh Out of Remorse at This Bakery

The apartment building where Sana and I live in EcoPark, just outside of Hanoi, Vietnam is rather busy. It has 5 running elevators to accommodate the thousand or so residents of the building. And at peak times during the day, they’re all rather busy.

Including the freight elevator.

The freight elevator is meant for people moving in and out, or moving a piece of furniture up or down.

And as of recently, it’s the only elevator we can use to transport our dog Cinnamon.

A few months ago, there was something that Americans would call a town hall meeting. A bunch of old Vietnamese women stood up on chairs and complained with weeping and gnashing of teeth about all the dogs that are in the elevators.

Evidently there wasn’t much discussion on the matter, so it was decided that Cinnamon would use the freight elevator, along with her owners, Sana and me.

The guy who smells like dead mackerel and hasn’t showered in a week is okay. Cinnamon, who is meticulously cared for by Sana, who teaches meticuloustacity in her spare time, uses the freight elevator.

The freight elevator is located next to the other 4 elevators, and its button doesn’t call the other elevators. So people will often press both buttons, the thought being that having two elevators at their beck and call will get them to the Promised Land of Floor 1 a few seconds sooner.

Most of the time, another elevator has scooped them up before the sluggish freight elevator arrives. So I oftentimes have the thing slow down, stop, only to have no one get in. To add insult to injury, there’s a little robotic voice that says in perfect English, “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

We live on the 23rd floor. Last week, I got in the FE with Cinnamon and began the trek down.

Floor 19, stop, no one there, door closes. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Floor 16, stop, no one there, door closes. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Floor 12, stop, no one there, door closes. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Floor 9, stop, no one there, door closes. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Floor 6, stop, no one there, door closes.

Silence.

Floor 6 is apparently unconcerned with the plight of those who suffer this fate. Floor 6 knows there are things in this life far more worthy of my concern than the trifling inconvenience of an empty elevator stop. Floor 6 basically said, “I know you’re put out by this, but frankly I’ve got my own problems. You’ll have to suffer through this yourself.”

I like Floor 6 more and more. I get kind of annoyed by the incessant apologizing in society. Especially the automatic, obligatory type.

Young people are always apologizing for pretty much everything. It’s kind of unattractive. Sometimes you have to just be like Floor 6 and say nothing when your actions are a petty inconvenience for others.

You’ll probably be fodder for their next blog post.