I hit the elevator call button. There’s no way that I’m going to take the stairwell–not in this heat. Even if it is the slowest elevator on campus.
I get in with two other guys, then another guy barely catches the elevator. We press our destinations and then take up spots in the elevator. As per male genetic coding, we set up equidistant from each other and don’t talk. I’m at the back of the elevator. Suddenly, the guy to my left jams his hand in the door. I find out why when she walks in.
Tall. Brunette. Leggy and showing it. In a word: Built. Wearing some sort of black wraparound dress and strappy shoes.
She says something, and the guy wearing a hat to my right presses a button.
Me, I’m checking her out. The up and down head motion, the whole deal. I look around and find out Mr. Hat’s caught me looking.
The thing is, we’re both doing the same thing. I raise an eyebrow and smirk. He starts to chuckle, then catches himself just as his floor comes up.
She leaves the elevator one floor later.
Later on in the day, I see Mr. Hat.
He smiles, “Hey, what’s up man?”
I laugh a bit, and I smile back. “Not much brother. Not much.”