Elevator talk

I ran across an article today about a woman who is celebrating 30 years as an elevator operator in the Space Needle in Seattle. I can’t imagine doing much of anything for 30 years – perhaps my marital record would attest to that – and certainly operating an elevator wouldn’t be the thing to stick with me for 30 days, much less 30 years. But this woman obviously loved her job and had a sense of humor about it; and the article had a few irresistibly bright spots.

So, from Kery Murakami, at the Seattle Post Intellegencer, quoting Jenny Dibley, there is this:

“On windy days, ‘when the doors opened, it was like the Marilyn Monroe-thing where my skirt would flare open.’

The dress kept getting stuck in the elevator doors, so Dibley would yank it out. Except for one time.

‘We started going down; my skirt just went up and up. I actually got lifted off the ground and I was hanging from my armpits,’ she said. ‘Everybody was quiet. And it's really true what your mother says about wearing clean underwear.’ “