Up
It was a nice day. The sun was finally out after 3 days of constant rain. Bob was running late for his meeting. He had a 9 AM and he didn’t want to go into it hungry.
He had already started his day with 3 breakfast bagels and a chocolate milkshake.
When Tracy’s around, breakfast is a chore. She would make him eggs, a bowl of fruits, perfectly golden toasts and fresh OJ.
“You gotta eat healthier, Bob,” she would say.
Her voice ran in his head as he ordered in a couple burgers and 2 thick shakes.
Take in, tear, eat, put the boxes in the garbage or forget about it. Nobody to remind him to put the stuff in its right place.
Bob started chomping down on the remainder of the bagel; it was 9.05 AM on the clock.
…
Bob sauntered into the elevator with a thick shake and a burger in each hand.
To his surprise, it was empty.
The liftman, Peter, smiled at him.
“Good morning, sir. What floor?,” he asked.
“Morning Peter. The usual!,” Bob smiled back.
Peter looked at him, continuing to smile, “Sure sir, floor 3 or 4?”
Confused, Bob said — “floor 3 man, you know!"
“Most of them pick the second floor,” he said as he nodded and pressed the button.
Bob wondered why Peter was so weird. The ice in his shake was melting. The water from the ice dripped on the elevator floor.
“Really? why? I thought everyone was always getting off at the 4th floor — you know, where the Fortune office is.”
“You’re right sir. They do. That’s the second most popular floor in fact. Yesterday I escorted Mr. Patrick Corwin and a friend of his to the floor. My! It was thrilling to be amid such accomplished men,” Peter smiled again.
Mr. Corwin was the owner of Choco Chills — a popular restaurant chain. In fact, Bob’s thick shake order happened to be from the same chain.
“Oh wow! You’ve got it good, Peter. Meeting the famous people! Did you guys talk?”
“Yes of course! He tipped me a $2.35 and said it was “for the trouble.”
“What! Just two dollars — I thought he’d be rolling in $100 bills. So much for being the thick-shake-factoryman!”
“Well sir, the way I look at it — I had no trouble and still made $2 outside of my pay check.”
“You’re a positive guy Peter. You should keep that up.”
Drip…drip…drip…the ice water kept dripping on Bob’s feet.
“Argh! I’m sorry, Peter — these Choco-chill guys gotta do better at their packaging. Do me a favour, tell Mr. Corwin the next time you see him?”
“Oh! Don’t worry about it sir. Do you like their slush?”
“Meh! I’m not a fan of slush. It’s just cold flavoured water. I didn’t ever get the point of it.” Bob responds as he shuffles around the puddle of water.
He realises it’s been more than a couple minutes since they entered the elevator but they still seemed to be travelling up.
“Hey Peter, is it just me or is the lift really slow today? What’s taking so long man?”
Peter turns to Bob with an inquiring expression.
“Do you remember what building this is, sir?”
Bob finds himself standing there, trying to remember what building this was, thick shake dripping through his shoe, into his socks — the cold wet making him really uncomfortable.
“How’d it get this wet?” he tries to shake off the water in his feet.
“Hold on, one second. Where the f*@k am I,” he now finds himself panicking!
Ding — the elevator door opens and a blast of the wintery icy chill hits Bob in his face.
He then remembers. The tightness in his chest. How full of bagel his mouth was. How he struggled for air as his windpipes contracted.
With horror in his eyes, Bob looked at Peter.
“Welcome to hell, sir” Peter nodded and pushed Bob off the elevator into the cold, icy nothingness.
…
According to Dante’s Nine Circles of Hell, the third circle is dedicated to the sin of gluttony where souls of the gluttonous are punished in a realm of icy mud.
