I didn’t feel like going to the elevator, press the red button, and then wait till it reaches three floors down.  It seemed like such a huge effort somehow.  I don’t know why as it was a nice day after all and the birds were singing outside, but still that didn’t help me in the least about going downstairs.  It was necessary that I did though.  The need of the many outweighed the need of the few, or the one.  For many, including the undersigned, tea without sugar or milk can taste slightly worse than ghastly.

The numbers on the display inside the confined space gradually were decreased from 3, to 2, to 1 and then to 0, ending with a slight jolt which made my legs bend at the knees.  The doors opened and all I could see was a long corridor, a dark corridor resembling a tunnel, with this light at the end of it.  The walk seemed endless and the light didn’t seem to get any closer at all with each and every step I took towards reaching it.  Was it the story of my life?  Walking so much and never getting anywhere?

After what seemed like an eternity, I finally managed to be out of the building and was faced with bright sun light.  It felt so warm, so comforting that it made me feel a glow all over my body.  However, this sense of well-being was short lived as I found myself indoors again, just two steps away, for the milk and sugar.

Being greeted by a buxom lady in black behind the bar was an uplifting experience in itself.  I was forwarded a full bag of sugar from a torn carton box and I mentioned that I wasn’t at all worried if the milk was going to come from her left or from her right, as long as it’s fresh.  She smiled showing beautiful teeth and her eyes seemed glazed.  She was on my line of thinking.  She’s sweet, sweeter than the whole bag of sugar put together.   With that rather sexually orientated tone, I left the place after thanking her awfully for helping out. 

The walk back to the elevator didn’t seem all that long this time as somebody else was heading down the tunnel too, barely five paces in front of me.  She was a tall woman, dressed in jeans and a shirt tucked in.  I suddenly felt so short and the feeling became even worse when the five paces had become one.   She wore an open shirt and revealing a white t-shirt that was showing signs of enormous strain underneath.  The doors finally opened and being the gentleman that I profess to be, I let her enter first.