Today I have for you a short tale of horror. It is not for the weak of heart. I would make yourself a cup of strong tea with 3 sugars in it in preparation.
Got your tea? Well let’s begin.
It was a day with a cold chill in the air. I was tired. Boyfriend was tired. We wanted a nice cup of something warm and to sit down for a while.
I’d heard from someone, somewhere that the hotel Flemings, near to the cinema, had a special kind of lift inside that leads to a bar upstairs. We decided to go and check it out.
Flemings is a pretty posh hotel. It has a doorman, so it must be posh. Even though the outside looks like it’s made of cheap concrete you usually find crappy 70s apartment blocks made from. We were both pretty scruffily dressed so we held our heads high and marched right through the lobby and quickly located these cool lifts.
They were the kind that doesn’t stop…just keeps going round and round in a chain. They had small carriages that I suspect aren’t made for more than one person because as Boyfriend jumped on, it was kinda tricky for me to jump on behind. But we made it.
We knew the bar was on the 7th floor, so as we travelled upwards, we counted the floors.
Finally, we got to floor 6 and just at that moment when it was no longer possible to jump off, we noticed a notice that said that if you wanted to go to the bar, you have to get off there. I started sweating.
I looked up and there was nothing there, just the curve where the lift curved round to the other side of the track.
I have to remind you that in times like this, rational thinking isn’t common. In my fear, I assumed that the lift carriage would flip over, upside down, and continue backwards until it got to the bottom.
With this in mind, I started swearing like a sailor. I was mentally preparing myself to start stepping on the walls of the carriage while it flipped over. My heart was beating like nothing I’ve felt since the day of the tsunami in Japan.
Of course, my rationally thinking friends, the carriage stayed upright, and carried over the top, then followed the track downwards. Of course it did this. It would be extremely dangerous and not very German if this was the case.
The second we reached the 6th floor, I was off that thing, hands on my knees, panting like someone who’d just run a marathon.
The bar at the top does a very nice cappuccino. I won’t be going back again to have it again, despite the fact that they have regular lifts there too.
That’s my story. I hope you liked it.