I know, hard to believe, but I actually was speechless. This was one of those moments that make you go....Okay, you're laughing too hard to do anything but snort....Never mind. I attended a state civil service exam this morning (my roommate and I decided to make it a bonding experience and do it together), and on the way back to the parking garage, we had to wait for the single-working elevator that was servicing all 11 floors of the garage. The other two elevators were clearly broken-down. I pressed the button, the light lit, and we waited. And waited. And waited. Two other gentlemen walked up, and took a stand beside us, united to watch the elevator progress lights shining above the metal doors. Lo, and behold, like a bastion of elevator genius, another gentlemen walked up, and pressed the call button. Once, twice and then again, in staccato bursts of energy. And he continued to press it with maniacal fervor. For minutes on end. We all stared in shock. Amusement. Desperate laughter. And not a little bit a circumspect alarm. He continued to pound a tattoo against the button until the elevator arrived. We all boarded the elevator, and moved as far to the back as we could, away from our button-pressing OCD sufferer who moved towards the floor call buttons on the panel. We all stood back, held our breath....Thank God he only had to go one floor. That button also got a full workout, though not as energetic as the other button. I suppose even an index finger can wear out.