the talking clock.

“It’s 4:57 PM,” the friendly clock announced.

“Shut up, Shut Up!” I hissed. The rest of the passengers in the crowded elevator turned and stared.

I gritted my teeth, gave an apologetic smile, and tried not to think about the fact that I was still in last night’s party clothes, reeked of smoke, had make-up running down my face and circles under my eyes, and was glistening with sweat. Half of my hair was matted, the other half stuck straight out. And I had a talking clock to boot.

Down we went to the third floor, where a horde of faces fell when they saw that there was no room left. There was an awkward stare-off between the elevator group and the outsiders as those inside fruitlessly jabbed the button. Finally, the doors slid closed and we were back in motion... only to arrive moments later at a disconcertingly familiar location. We were back on the fourth floor.

Several passengers, including myself, let out a groan. It was clear that with the sheer volume of people trying to navigate the dorm, the normal system of elevation was off. There was another bout of increasingly violent pounding on the lobby button, an exasperated pause, and then we were dropping back down again... only to be met by the same sour faces of the third floor. I, for one, could take no more.

“Hold the doors!” I yelled from the back corner, inciting another collective groan.

“Scuse me, pardon me,” I said as I jostled my way through the masses, garbage bags swiping the shins of the slow to move. An Asian parent trying to enter the elevator received a particularly hard hit at the knees.

“It’s 4:58 PM,” the clock informed him.

Two minutes! I had been through worse, I reminded myself, as I swerved and shimmied past parents and furniture, over hockey bags and squatting students, into the stairwell, where a rub up against the clock let me know that another minute had passed. Indeed, it was quite vocal all the way down the stairs, since I was no longer lifting the bags so much as letting them drag along behind me.

“What the hell is that?” A confused passer-by asked, but I had no time for trivialities. I had reached the lobby. Slamming through the door, I dashed for the first bit of empty floor I could find and dumped the bags on top of one another.

“It’s 5:00 PM!” Came from somewhere deep within the mound.

“I KNOW!” I shouted back, turning and sprinting towards the stairs.