If you followed Twitter over the weekend (you waited with drunken breath for each and every one of my tweets, right?), you already know some bloggers attending the Blissdom conference got STUCK IN THE HOTEL ELEVATOR FOR MORE THAN 30 MINUTES.

Dear reader, I was one of those bloggers and I am ready to tell my story.

This whole OH MY GOD, WE’RE TRAPPED! event was something that could happen only in the movies because what is life other than your own personal movie projected onto a holographic screen you can’t see?

As you probably know, my life movie is a comedy and this is the first draft of the screenplay for the next Academy Award winning movie we named Elevator 13.

The movie gets its name from the fact there were 13 bloggers trapped in a Hotel Preston elevator, and the superstition of the number is not lost on them.  I mean, thank god it was a Saturday night and not a Friday night or we would have ALL been convinced we were about to die.  (See? The movie connection is starting already.)

You may wonder how such a dramatic situation could be considered a comedy, and my answer is I’M ONE SICK FUCKER.  And also that the hotel staff portrayed themselves as bumbling Bozos who I believe were eating “special brownies” behind the front desk while taking turns playing a game where, instead of answering the phone, they shoved ginormous red patent leather clown shoes up each others ass each time it rang.

(If you get to five rings, you win a bonus round!)

It all started when we returned from the most awesome dinner in the history of all conferences, made in part by not just the company, but also the best waiter in the world named Claude. (Who I think was actually from Comedy Central.)

As we are women and the tendency at these women blogger get-ups is that we all immediately become BFFs, we loaded 13 people into the elevator at Hotel Preston, having no problem squishing boobs up against one another. After all, we’re BFFs and in no way were close to the 2500 lb weight limit.

As the elevator went up, it gave a sudden lurch, then a quick tummy-turning drop and we SCREAMED OUT LOUD IN UNISON. All thirteen of us.

That? Was Houston’s first signal there was a problem.

Oh. Shit. We are stuck in an elevator.

We didn’t immediately panic, but did the intelligent thing and pushed the emergency button on the elevator panel.

NO ONE FROM THE FRONT DESK ANSWERED THE DEDICATED EMERGENCY LINE THEY ARE REQUIRED BY LAW TO HAVE.

And the edge of panic began to creep in.

But yay for technology like cell phones and social media!  Someone called their roommate upstairs and they phoned down to the front desk to inform their inattentive asses that PEOPLE ARE TRAPPED IN THE ELEVATOR. Others twittered that we were stuck and they too called the desk.

I guess Bozo polished off his pan of “special brownies” as quickly as he could and then pulled the shoe out of his ass because someone called into the elevator and said something about they called the guy.

The guy? Is that like a Joe the Plumber guy? Or a fire department guy?

Hotel Preston was not forthcoming about exactly who they called, and, I don’t know, when you have 13 people stuck in an elevator, you need to at least pretend you have your act together and know the standard operating procedure for such things.

Come on, Hotel Preston should know the SOP for such things because when I was there in October for the mini Blissdom conference, the EXACT SAME THING HAPPENED TO THREE LITTLE OLD LADIES. I know this because they just so happened to get into our elevator when they were finally rescued and they too were stuck for 30-40 minutes.

(Another yay for little old ladies having the courage to get immediately back onto an elevator, because I sure as hell didn’t and walked 8 flights of stairs up to my room. But then, I don’t know if that’s courage or don’t give a damn? They were like 80 and they’d lived their lives.  I’m only 35, have small children to raise, and at least another 50 years of living to do.)

So the front desk and manager did not exactly instill a sense of calm and control to those of us stuck in the elevator, and the panic got stronger.

By the way, did I mention we had A PREGNANT BLOGGER IN THE ELEVATOR?  Of course we had a pregnant blogger in the elevator!  You can’t have a trapped elevator scene in a movie without at least one pregnant occupant.

(And if you think I’m making that up for a nice bit of drama, you would be thinking WRONG. It’s 100% true.  We had a pregnant lady in the elevator.)

We tried to play the WE HAVE A PREGNANT WOMAN IN THIS STUCK ELEVATOR card, but the front desk wasn’t impressed.

We then tried the WE HAVE TWO OCCUPANTS HAVING SERIOUS PANIC ATTACKS, FUCKING HELP US, PLEASE! card, and again, the front desk was not impressed.

And when I say “we tried the (fill in the blank) card”, that means we had to call the emergency line to get updates from the front desk because I GUESS THEY WERE TOO BUSY WHIPPING UP ANOTHER BATCH OF “SPECIAL BROWNIES” IN THE HOTEL KITCHEN. I can’t think why else they wouldn’t call us every couple of minutes with updates.

We even had to ring them to get an ETA on Joe the Plumber.

(I wish I were taking creative license, but I’m not.)

Finally, Joe the Plumber, or the technician from their “elevator company” (what the hell does that mean anyway? Is he qualified for rescue?) showed up.  Joe the Plumber/Elevator guy cracked open the elevator door about four inches.  We felt a sweep of fresh air (my god, it was so damn hot in there!), saw a brief glimpse of Joe’s face, yelled “Hey!” at him because we were so overjoyed to see him.

And then he SLAMMED THE ELEVATOR DOORS IN OUR FACE WITHOUT A WORD.

Where else but a comedy would some crazy shit like that happen?

The remaining details that happened between that and us getting out of the elevator are between me and MGM, or possibly Universal, DreamWorks, etc. Whoever’s first because this script is hot.  But since you are my darling readers, I will give you just a few more sneak peaks.

There were people discovering sudden psychology talents while some *ahem* with actual psychology degrees mentally froze up.

There was nervous flatulence.

And NO ONE FROM HOTEL PRESTON WAS PRESENT ONCE WE WERE RELEASED FROM THE TRAPPED ELEVATOR TO MAKE SURE EVERYONE WAS OK, DESPITE THE FACT THEY KNEW WE HAD FOR REAL PANIC ATTACKS GOING ON AND A PREGNANT WOMAN.

I’m sure the movie-making gurus are reading my blog and perhaps question if this is enough material to produce a full-length feature film.

That is a very high-minded and intelligent question, and I can see why they earn very high salaries and I make nothing from my blog.  But I have the answer.

There were 13 of us trapped in that elevator, and I don’t care if you are MOTHER TERESA HOLDING A GET-OUT-OF-HELL-FREE CARD.  It’s an elevator and I don’t think any of us were devoid of all claustrophobic/elevator fear.

Needless to say, there was much mental distraction going on in there to keep our minds off of the situation, and this is where the juice of the movie would be.

Imagine, if you will, the camera entering our minds intermittenly throughout the “live-action” scenes.  Sorta like a cross between reality tv and a Star Trek episode.

{I pick Star Trek because we’re bloggers and inherently techy, which has an aroma of nerdiness (though definitely the musky scent of hot nerds). And when you hear things like “I love blogging conferences because I’m around people who finally get it,” you realize people at Star Trek conferences say the exact same thing. But hell, we can take a bit of ribbing because we’re secure in our narcissism.}

The scene samples I’m about to show here should in no way be construed as what was actually going on in my mind. This is my creative imagination at work here. *ahem*

One blogger distracts herself with desperate attempts to remember the name of the other female blogger squished up against her, but can’t focus because the woman is so damn pretty.  I’m, I mean she’s close enough to notice her skin is so smooth and doesn’t have the first sign of large pores, and oh, the prettiness!  And then this blogger starts to wonder if SHE’S REALLY A LESBIAN DEEP DOWN and…….SEE THE MOVIE!

Another blogger distracts herself by imagining they had used their cell phones to call the fire department instead of “Special Brownie Troop #WeRHi” of the front desk and is being rescued by the hottest fireman in Nashvegas.  The hot fireman is struck by the MILF-iness of this blogger and discreetly steers me, I mean her (damn it) away from the other rescued bloggers to give her a more thorough (and oral) examination in a nearby closet.  Things are pretty steamy when the fireman runs his hands up her skirt and onto her ass, only to discover the deepest, darkest secret of all MILF bloggers; that I, I mean they wear thick layers of underarmor. And so the firefighter…….SEE THE MOVIE!

And we all know that Joe the Plumber/Elevator guy slammed the elevator doors back in our face without a word because he was unprepared to see such beautiful women in a stuck elevator. After all, he’s used to seeing 80-year-old women in stuck elevators. Since he was looking up at us, it’s entirely possibly that HE SAW OUR PANTIES. Imagine the thoughts in his head and then SEE THE MOVIE!

My dear readers (and MGM), that’s only three minds. There are a dozen more ways to spin this tale.  Full-length feature film, indeed.

Below I give you a list of the cast of Elevator 13.  I urge you to visit them and ask for their autographs now before we’re on the red carpet at the Oscars and our narcissism has grown to such proportions that we can’t see the little people for our big heads and the gleam of our trophies for Best Parody.  We are as follows:

Myself, of course
Jennifer at Playgroups are No Place for Children
Victoria at V-Dog
Heather at The Spohrs are Multiplying
Emily at DesignHER Momma
Amy at Amy in Ohio
Hebba at JeepGirl17
Shannan at Mommy Bits
Ali at Blessed Treehouse
Sandy at Organize with Sandy
Jenny at Mommin’ It Up
Dawn at Kaiser Alex
Cortney at Once a Month Mom

I wonder which actor should play the character of Queen of Shake Shake?

Attention MGM and all other movie people, screenwriters, actors and wannabes! This is MY script. MINE!  My work here is copyrighted by Darth Vadar himself and if you try to steal it, you will feel the DARK SIDE OF MY TWITTER FORCE POWER. And also the dark side of my attorney’s Force. And then after the judge has served up your nuts on my new silver platter, I’ll send Amy in Ohio after you to finish you off.

(But I’m totally willing to be a sell out to you.)

If I may have the movie industry’s attention for just one more second, let me say that if you can’t spin this tale into a comedy film, then I will lose my faith not just in Hollywood, but in humanity itself. I think if that happens, I’ll have to give up the entire theater experience, including the stale popcorn, astronomically overpriced colas, and sticky floors for the comfort of my own clean home and pretty 42″ flat screen tv whose picture, by the way, looks ten times better than the large screen anyway.

This entry was posted on Sunday, February 8th, 2009 at 7:50 pm and is filed under I Couldn't Make This Shit Up. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.