Under the Button is part of a student-run nonprofit.

Please support us by disabling your ad blocker on our site.

School Pride: Everyone Sighs Loudly When High Rise Elevator Stops on 4th Floor


Photo from Pexels, edits by Oscar Eichmann

Another day, another 10:15 class. I feel complicated and depressed. I live on the 24th floor of Rodin College House and I’m waiting for the elevator to come. There’s some kid next to me eating what looks like a Pret baguette sandwich. Crumbs are flying everywhere. After around 45 seconds of turning my head back and forth to monitor the tiny red numbers of the elevator floors, I see 22…23…24….beeep. Let’s get on.

Of course! We don’t even pass a floor before the elevator halts to a grinding stop. 3 girls get on; roommates it appears. It’s 10:11 AM; I must be at David House Rittenhouse Laboratory for my math recitation at 10:15, and more importantly, to see my sexy TA. Chances are slim that I make it on time. We stop 3 more times:

19th floor: A skeleton-like engineering kid with hood up inserts himself in the corner. 

14th floor: That one kid in my Wharton 2010 class. We give each other the ? face.

9th floor: Two girls floating in Ariana Grande’s Cloud. 

3 minutes have passed, and I’m still holding out hope to walk a mile in 2 minutes. After this floor, we should be flying straight down … right?

8…7….6…5…………4……beeep. We're stopping on the floor.


Why does this always happen to me? I feel so desolate, so miserable. I’m always late. I’m never going to find love. I might as well just drop out of- 

A loud sigh escapes from the kid in my Wharton 2010 class. 

“Oh my god…” say the two fragrant girls. 

The kid on my floor gives me a knowing smirk and rolls his eyes. We understand each other. 

Then, finally, the scrawny engineering kid steps out of the darkness and proclaims: “Just take the DAMN stairs at this point!”

All of us in the elevator cheer and clap. We give each other hugs; everybody daps me up and claps me on the back. I almost shed a tear in my eye. I don’t even care about missing my recitation anymore. This is community.

The doors open. We all return to our spots, silently glaring at the annoying kid in [REDACTED] who just got on. But among ourselves, we exchange glances of hope, unity, and family. We know.