I'm drunk and this thread was on the first page of the drinking stories forum.oettinger wrote:Some time ago I was the victim of the "trying to take the elevator drunk" dilemma. I live on third floor but managed only to ride to the second floor. Was so drunk that I didn`t notice the door mat and the door itself looked quite different. Tried for some 10 minutes to violently enter that damn key. Got it only halfway in, mostly scratching the door all the time.
Only then my nerdy looking scared shitless neighbour slightly opened the door and told me I was on the wrong floor. Always nice when people help each other out!
Reminds me of the time I went out with my father to go out for dinner around 6pm or so. Stupidly, we chose our favorite irish pub that serves food.
Well... 8 or 9 hours later, we closed the fucking place down, and he dropped me off at my apartment. I rode the elevator, must have accidentally hit the sixth floor and wandered around talking to myself, went up to the seventh floor, puked ALL OVER it, and then went to my apartment.
I got a call the next day saying something akin to "We got reports of a very intoxicated individual on the sixth and seventh floors of the building and are looking for information so we can pin down who this was and take appropriate action. Descriptions from the sixth floor (I live on the seventh) say he has dark hair and a beard, and was waiting on the decommissioned elevator instead of the one that actually works. If we don't get any information or confessions, we will check the surveillance tapes."
Luckily, I happened to know that at the time the surveillance cameras weren't operational. ;)
