As my elevator was descending from the 13th floor to the first, it stopped at the 6th floor. The doors opened; a woman got on.
She was small, blonde and pretty, and wearing huge dark sunglasses. She reached for the floor buttons and pressed 5. Before I fully processed my thought, which was “Why didn’t she walk down?” she turned to me and apologized. “I’m so sorry,” she said, “normally I’d walk down but I just had my eyes dilated and I can’t see.”
“Oh,” I said, “I know exactly what you mean because I had my eyes dilated on Monday and walking home was almost impossible.”
“Actually,” she said, “it’s only one eye but…”
“That’s worse!” I said. “Totally wobbly…”
The elevator opened at 5 and she apologized again and departed.
She gave me a story instead of an explanation.