Logic, lifts, and chopsticks.

A cartoon-style illustration of a man sitting on a chair facing a taped-off Out of Order lift. His back is to the viewer. A security guard stands nearby with SECURITY on his jacket, also facing the lift. In the background, another guard is visible behind glass, eating noodles. The scene feels absurdly calm given the situation.

The shopping centre had plenty of spots in the main parking lot, but there was a car lift to the basement. And I wanted to feel like James Bond.

It was less fun and much slower than I’d imagined. Tight, too.

Parked up and noted there was no human lift. We have to use the stairs. Should’ve worn my trainers.

Returned about an hour later. Packed and arranged the boot, then drove to the lift. It was taped off. Out of order.

Now what? I wandered around, looking for help.

Found a sign that said ‘For assistance, press the red button.’

Said button was in a locked glass case. Next to it, another sign said: ‘Do not break the glass.’

Other options gone, I had to trudge back up the stairs.

Approached a booth with a man inside. He was eating a beef and tomato Pot Noodle with chopsticks. His back to me.

I knocked on the window and explained my situation.

He said the weekday guy had turned off the lift as a precaution. He’s at a stag do in Prague and didn’t want anyone to get trapped while he’s away.

“But I am trapped,” I pointed out.

He nodded. “Right. So you see the problem.”

“No,” I stressed. “I’m trapped because he turned it off. If you turned it on, I could leave.”

“It’s off so people don’t get stuck.”

“I’m already stuck.”

He nodded again. “Exactly.”

We stood in silence. I wasn’t sure what to say or how to deal with this.

He cracked first. “I’m just the weekend guy. I can’t turn it on. Don’t have the keys.”

“When’s the weekday guy back?”

He rolled his eyes so hard I thought his pupils might reappear from the bottom. “Monday.”

“It’s Thursday,” I reminded.

“Yeah.”

He offered me a green Smint and said I could wait in the booth. If I wanted.

Considered it for a second. There were two chairs and a lava lamp. A little black and white TV.

“So what happens now?” I asked. Politely as I could manage.

“The manager could turn it on.”

Progress! “Great! When will they be back?”

“He’s the weekday guy.”

Oh.

“It’s a hire car,” I pleaded. “I need to return it.”

He shrugged.

“Can you call the manager?”

“He’s in Prague”

Guess I’ll go back Monday. Hope no one gets too close to the car. And it’s not too warm down there.

Didn’t know they still sold black and white TVs.