Feeling high

You arrive in front of the lift. There is no one else nearby. By application of the little brain bestowed upon you in a rare combination of natural benevolence and your ancestral genes, you infer that to proceed to a floor above, you need to summon the elevator by pressing a simple button. It glows in acquiescence.

But very soon, your solitude is rendered null and void. You are in the midst of "someone". "Someone" pauses, and then proceeds to jab the shining lift's button. If they didn't have their back to you, they'd have noticed your face was replaced by a question mark.

If you were so inclined, you would wonder: how insignificant you are, that this person took one miniscule look at you, and in that fading moment, decided that no mechanical pulley-system was going to obey your microbial commands, and that it would be best for all of you that they showed the elevator who was boss.

But no, you wouldn't think like that. You are too 'normal' for that.