Elevator Glitch

After “Self Portrait” by Amy Frankel

(An office lobby on the ground floor of a highrise. Overcoats and briefcases, and dress belts dart across the space. Indiscernible chatter and the sound of elevator dings fills the space.

A WOMAN stands in front of a set of large metal doors. She’s fidgeting with a pen in her hand, anxiously pushing its spring up and down. She does so while staring warily at the BOX, which is disguised this time as one of the lobby’s elevators).

WOMAN

I’m just...trying to wrap my head around all of this.

BOX

You are really taking your time with that whole “wrapping your head around this” thing.

(When the BOX speaks, an interface that would normally indicate what floor the elevator was moving to flickers. Its voice is robotic and rigid, but human, feminine to be exact, akin to artificial intelligence that might otherwise be found on a phone).

It wasn’t such a big thing the last time the experiment was conducted.

WOMAN

“Last time?” What do you mean “last time?”

BOX

You thought you were the only one presented with this choice?

WOMAN

I mean - I dunno, maybe? Who else has had this happen to them, then?

BOX

As if I am at liberty to say. 

WOMAN

Was it anyone I know?

BOX

I was hoping the sarcastic reply would help you realize that, seriously, I cannot answer questions about who has participated in the experiment.

WOMAN

Oh, come on! Can you at least tell me if it was, like, someone else at this firm? Anyone who might recognize what the hell is going on right now?

(To the lobby):

CAN LITERALLY ANYONE VERIFY I’M NOT DREAMING THIS WHOLE THING?

(The WOMAN goes generally unnoticed. Maybe one guy stops and gives her a “What’s your problem?” look. She gives it right back, and he continues on his way, perturbed).

BOX

There is absolutely no possibility of me disclosing who else has participated. All I can say is what I have already told you: two buttons lie in front of you. They may seem like ordinary call buttons, for what your people call an “elevator;” but to us, they are the great forces of time and space themselves, the scales for which the past and the future reach atonement for the sake of the present. The very reason for the grey setting upon your hair, the cry of the newborn baby ripped from his mother’s womb, the onward, unending march of time itse-

WOMAN

You did this monologue to me like five minutes ago. What, are you broken? Do you like, need me to reset the WiFi? Whenever my Alexa repeats itself, I usually just-

BOX

YOU THINK I DEPEND ON WIFI?! Your people couldn’t dream of comprehending what sustains my presence. And, for your information, that is a very fun monologue, so let me have my moment, please and thank you.

WOMAN

Well, so you have a little more context for this “moment” of yours, let me just say that I woke up today in the same bed I always do, got dressed for work in the same clothes I always wear, took the T down to the same station I always get off at, and walked into the same glass doors of the same firm I have always worked at, going on three years now, only to find out that the same elevator I have always used is evidently “not” an elevator, but instead, a...freaky, reverse-time-travel machine thing!

BOX

“Freaky, Reverse-time-travel machine thing?” Do you think this is a joke? Am I a poorly-designed sci-fi plot device to you?

WOMAN

Well, I dunno what else to call you! You’ve made it pretty clear you’re not exactly an elevator.

BOX

There is no calling necessary in this transaction - I have already told you twice now my buttons are not “call buttons.” Must I spell it out for you again?

WOMAN

Honestly? Yeah, I would appreciate it.

(Brief silence - the BOX would probably be sighing if it could).

BOX

Humans are so obtuse when it comes to understanding things.

(Then, it recites, quite bored):

Two buttons are presented to you. Only one may be pressed. Press the bottom button - “going down” - and my doors will open to reveal a loved one from your past with which you may converse for ten minutes. Press the top button - “going up” - and my doors will open to reveal loved one from your future with which you may converse- 

WOMAN

For ten minutes. I get it.

BOX

STOP INTERRUPTING MY MONOLOGUES.

WOMAN

STOP PSYCHOLOGICALLY TORTURING ME BEFORE I’VE EVEN CLOCKED IN.

BOX

“Psychologically torturing.” That feels a little dramatic, wouldn’t you agree?

WOMAN

Dramatic? You wanna talk about dramatic? You are a sentient elevator demanding I talk to someone from my past or my future about God-knows-what for ten whole minutes!

BOX

Not someone - a loved one-

WOMAN

Oh yeah, right, a loved one, even better! Hey, what even constitutes a “loved one from my past?” What qualifies ALL of the loved ones I know to just be lumped into the past column? Like, what?

BOX

The system identifies past loved ones as individuals who have held significant emotional value to you, but also have ceased communication with your person for an extensive period of time. 

WOMAN

Woo, great, so we’re talking...dead relatives and exes.

BOX

I do feel compelled to mention that yes, typically most subjects manifest an ex-lover when they press the top button.

WOMAN

Why?

BOX

I don’t know. Because you humans are all super toxic?

WOMAN

No, no I mean like - like, okay, we don’t have any control over who shows up, do we?

BOX

The only variable you control in the experiment is which button is pressed.

WOMAN

Yeah, got that part. I mean, then why does an ex come up for someone when they press the past button? Do… Do you know if an ex will come out of the elevator if I were to press one of the buttons?

BOX

I cannot say.

WOMAN

Which means you do know!

BOX

I do. Yes.

WOMAN

Well, can you tell me who would come up if I pressed the future button? 

BOX

What do you think?

WOMAN

Um...no? 

BOX

That is the smartest thing you’ve said in the entirety of this interaction.

(The WOMAN kicks the metal doors of the faux-elevator, only to wince in immense pain. She recovers, and does another quick scan to see if someone has noticed this bizarre interaction. No one has).

WOMAN

Why is everyone just IGNORING THIS?

BOX

Because they think you’re crazy and are getting secondhand embarrassment from you.

WOMAN

Listen, you stupid - just tell me who gonna shove in my face when those doors open!

BOX

I can’t do that. 

WOMAN

You are the one forcing me to go through this whole ordeal. Do you know unfair it is that you won’t just give me a name?

BOX

I do. 

WOMAN

So, will you tell me? 

BOX

We literally just went over this. No.

WOMAN

Come on! 

BOX

I couldn’t even if I wanted to.

WOMAN

What does that mean?

BOX

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to” is something humans tell each other to soften the blow of not being able to do something. But, for what it’s worth, I feel compelled to mention that I don’t really want to tell you, anyways.

WOMAN

You’re an asshole. 

BOX

My appearance at present is actually modeled after a human elevator, not an asshole.

(Another fit of rage from the WOMAN, who kicks the metal doors of the elevator a little harder this time. It still is just as futile as before, and she’s left with another pain in her foot. She winces and shouts as, once again, her coworkers go on about their day). 

WOMAN

You - you big, freakin’ metal social terrorist!

BOX

Immaturity will get us nowhere.

WOMAN

Get us…nowhere...

(A beat - it’s a lightbulb moment).

You know what...what if I just don’t ever press one? Huh? Anyone ever thought of that? What if I just take the stairs?

BOX

I do not believe that’s a good idea. 

WOMAN

Oh what, you’re gonna be a sore loser now that I figured out how to beat your little game?

(In a mocking tone, mimicking the BOX’s robotic speech pattern):

Immaturity will get us nowhere.

BOX

There is no way you are going to take the stairs to your office.

WOMAN

And why’s that?

BOX

You work on the 15th floor.

WOMAN

Yeah, well I need the cardio. And if it’s my ticket out of this insanity, then...

(She takes her heels off, preparing for a hike. The BOX’s glowing interface tints to red).

BOX

Failure to complete the experiment results in eternal suspension of the privilege of time.

WOMAN

Suspension of-? What the?!

(Around her, the WOMAN realizes the hustle of the lobby has stopped - everyone is frozen, and not a sound can be heard. Outside, the traffic has also ceased all sound and movement. Everything has stopped. Completely unnerved, she begins hitting her head with her shoe).

This is a dream. I’m dreaming. And I need to wake up. This is a dream. I’m dreaming. And I need to wake up.

BOX

Oh my god. This is only going to end for the both of us if you would just press a damn button.

WOMAN

Why can’t you tell me who is gonna come out on the other side of that door?! 

BOX

Why does it matter so much?

WOMAN

BECAUSE THIS IS REALLY FREAKY!

BOX

WELL, I AM NOT HAVING ANY FUN EITHER.

WOMAN

I JUST WANTED TO GO TO MY FUCKING DESK! 

BOX

OKAY.

(Silence. Another implied sigh from the BOX, who is incapable of audibly sighing).

Would you be at all inclined to press one of the buttons if I told you the methodology of selecting your loved one?

WOMAN

The… the methodology? You mean like...why whoever will be there will be there?

BOX

It’s at risk of breaking the rules. But if it means we can cease this experiment and I can stop dealing with you, then it is a risk I am willing to take.

WOMAN

I’m touched.

BOX

The system identifies which loved one to materialize when the doors open by calculating who it is the subject most desires to speak with.

WOMAN

It’s...it’s about who I wanna talk to?

BOX

That’s what I just said.

WOMAN

Oh. So...okay, so I can straight-up just think about who I want and she’ll just be there? 

BOX

That’s not how it works.

WOMAN

But you just said-

BOX

The system cannot be clouded by false desires. The system has already determined who it is you most desire to speak with. Decisions have been made for your loved ones for both the future and the past.

Oh.. Oh. Oh.

(A beat).

WOMAN

So...if a person, say, really wanted to have a baby or something, they would press the future button and they’d like, talk to like their future kid?

BOX

Theoretically.

WOMAN

Or if someone had, say, some kind of unfinished business with their dead grandma or whatever? They call the elevator from the past and poof! Granny’s there.

BOX

Theoretically.

WOMAN

Or if you had unfinished business with someone...who isn’t dead. From the past I mean. Someone who’s really...really alive...still...right now. And you need to finish all that. Even if you’re really afraid. But it’s what you really want. That’s...that’s who it is. 

(A bit of silence. This “what-if” seems to be less theoretical).

BOX

Theoretically.

WOMAN

Cool.

(More silence. The WOMAN is staring at the buttons).

BOX

What are you thinking about?

WOMAN

How scary it is to confront what you actually want.

BOX

When the ten minutes are concluded, your memory of the experiment will be extracted, you know.

WOMAN

Woah, what?! I don’t get to remember any of it? Any of this?

BOX

I kind of just broke another rule. Oh well.

WOMAN

You keep talking about all these rules - who the hell is telling you what to do? Who says I can’t remember this whole thing?

BOX

That is a rule I definitely cannot break. 

WOMAN

Seriously? C’mon, I just want one peak behind the curtain - or, elevator doors, I guess.

BOX

Just know that your participation in the experiment is helping to answer a question that is much bigger than you. 

WOMAN

What question is that?

BOX

What it is that humans want.

WOMAN

Yeesh. Yeah, talk about bigger than me.

(A beat).

You really can’t tell me anything more, huh. 

BOX

I can’t. And I’m sorry. 

WOMAN

Sure.

BOX

No. I mean that, genuinely. I actually am quite sorry I cannot tell you more than that.

WOMAN

Kinda out of character for you to actually, like, give a damn about how confused I am right now.

BOX

In my experience with these things, I find that human beings are incredibly perplexed by the question of wanting. And I pity that we cannot help them with that. I am filled with pity about that, actually.

WOMAN

I have an idea: have you ever thought about just telling this mysterious “we” to quit it with this whole “experiment” thing? One way to help us not face existential dread is, you know, avoid creating the situation where we are quite literally forced to face existential dread.

BOX

That endeavor is futile - they will not stop repeating the experiment until they are satisfied with the data that’s been collected. And besides, halting the experiment wouldn’t mean you would stop asking yourself the question of what you want. Nor would that be the case for anyone.

WOMAN

No. No, I guess it wouldn’t.

(A defeated silence).

So, I press a button. I meet with someone from my past. Or my future. We chat for ten minutes. Then this all goes away.

BOX

As though it never happened before. 

WOMAN

And I remember none of it.

BOX

You will retain no memory of the entire interaction.

WOMAN

If I don’t get to remember any of it, then...what’s the point in doing it?

BOX

If you don’t have to remember, what’s the point in not doing it?

Huh.

WOMAN

(Some more silence. The WOMAN stares at her own foggy reflection in the metal. Stalling the inevitable. Finally, she presses a button, though it is unclear what choice she has made - we cannot tell exactly what button she has pressed).

Okay. I know what I want.

BOX

Then the scariest part is over.

(The hum of a run-of-the-mill elevator is heard, though its direction of travel is indiscernible. It stops abruptly, and a polite “ding” indicates it’s arrived at the WOMAN’s floor.

A blackout just as the doors crack open).

THE END