The man in the yellow shirt entered the elevator and pressed the lowest button, which was marked 'B3'. The light next to the word 'DOWN' lit up, and down we went.
"Down?" I exclaimed in confusion. "I don't want to go down. I want to go up. I pressed 31. Why is the elevator obeying you and not me? I was here first."
"It likes me better," said the yellow-shirted man.
"Why would it like you? You're ugly looking and your shirt is stupid."
"How do you know what an elevator thinks is ugly? Maybe it likes my shirt."
I frown. "That is an absurd anthropomorphization. I demand a reasonable explanation."
He displayed a card with a magnetic stripe. "Emergency override," he explains.
"What?" I said. "Is there an emergency?"
"Not really," he says. "I just need to get to the garage so I can drive to the pub."
"And that's more important than me getting home with all of my groceries?" I said indignantly. My arms were getting tireder by the moment.