Hi everybody!!
Some days ago, while waiting for my train, I had the silliest idea ever about a shortie, so today i wrote it.
I sort of feel obliged to warn you that I was very tired, starving and cold on the day I came up to this idea, so don't expect nothing well written, or even worse, serious.

I do not own actor Viggo Mortensen, albeit I wish I did, even just for fifteen minutes, nor this song I used, which is property of one of my favourite bands, Aerosmith, and if you ask me, they had a heck of fun writing it; yet, I own this story in general, but I don't think you're so silly to steal it. :P

Rating: R.

:love:

The elevator.

I press the button of the elevator with tired resignation, a laconic sigh erupting from my lips. As my eyes follow the small keys blinking one after the other, with excruciating slowness, I sense the frustration of this day form a knot at the base of my stomach.
I so hate my life, sometimes!
In detail, I hate the bleak, undeniable realization that your adult years bring along: no matter how much you struggle to get the job of your dreams, to keep a firm body, or a decent appearance by spending twenty minutes before the mirror every damn morning, instead of sleeping: even the best job in the world has downsides, and a pretty face or a slim waistline will never help you out of it, unless, of course, you’re a stunning beauty, but this has never been my case.

“Come on, sucker!” I press the key again, fishing inside the pocket of my coat to take out my MP3 player. I skim through the list of tracks, looking for something that will cheer me up, at least during the short, soothing interlude of the upcoming trip inside the crowded elevator, from the eleventh floor that host the studios of the TV channel where I work, to the underground parking lot.

My finger stops on an old Aerosmith record, and I smile: nothing like naughty, evergreen Aerosmith can bright up a dully day!
I push play right when the doors of the elevator shuffle open, and I walk in, my head bent on the illuminated screen of my player, as I secure it inside my pocket.

Workin' like a dog for the boss man
Workin' for the company
I'm bettin' on the dice I'm tossin'
I'm gonna have a fantasy

But where am I gonna look?
They tell me that love is blind
I really need a girl like an open book
To read between the lines

I shake my head slightly, in sync with the song. Behind me, all around me, people talk about their working day, and their voices sink through the music like an annoying buzz. Making a face, I pump up the volume, and no, I don’t give a shite if anyone of these well-dressed farts overhears the song I’m listening to, or if they get psychologically damaged by its naughty lyrics.

The doors shuffle open and close, people gets in, people gets out; I can smell their perfumes, expensive colognes mixed with tobacco, coffee and human perspiration, while the naughty daring lyrics drill my brain, making me smile like a bold school girl biting her nails in the rear line of chairs, during the Sunday morning Mass.

Love In An Elevator
Livin' it up when I'm goin' down
Love In An Elevator
Lovin' it up till I hit the ground

Jackeys in the elevator
Lingerie second floor
She said 'can I see you later
And love you just a little more?'

I bet good old Steven Tyler took inspiration from real life to write this one. Damn, even the ugliest of rock stars got laid at least a million times more than I could even dream to do, with good sake of the American dream of a quiet and accomplished life.
As we go down, the elevator gets emptier and emptier, and in the now quite free space I allow myself to toss an uninterested peek at the people surrounding me, and as I do, my heart stops.
Right behind me, standing quietly in a corner, the great actor Viggo Mortensen is busy at staring his own shoes, and I cast my eyes away from him before a stupid, eloquent blush covers my unworthy cheeks. Damn destiny a thousand times! Right, girl, keep your cool, it’s not the first time you spot a celebrity in this building; okay, it is the first time you spot a celebrity you actually like enough to blush like a teen about, but it is not too late to keep staring ahead of you, and avoid thus making an ass of yourself.

I kinda hope we get stuck
Nobody gets out alive
She said 'I'll show you how to fax
In the mailroom, honey
And have you home by five'

Love In An Elevator
Livin' it up when I'm goin' down
Love In An Elevator
Lovin' it up till I hit the ground

You’re not helping me at all, Steven Tyler! This is the last place on earth to pour such daring thoughts into my already perverted mind, after a tiring day wiped away all spiels I have ever been taught about decency, well, the last place after a funeral, a crowded bus and a supermarket, just to name some.

When the fat man in a grey suit walks past me to get out the elevator, leaving me in the company of my favourite actor and my corrupting favourite rock band, the impulse to cross Viggo’s eyes is too strong to be denied, and when I do, I am shocked to realize he is staring at me, an evident, amused smile on his lips.
I blush widely, casting my eyes down. Gosh, I am sure that in the vacuum of this small space he can hear perfectly the song I am listening to! This is at least deathly embarrassing; why I did not choose something educated like Beethoven? I can find a dirty meaning underneath Beethoven’s, for sure, but at least it would be just about me.

In the air, in the air, honey one more time
Now it ain't fair
Love in an elevator
Lovin' it up when I'm goin' down

Love in an elevator
Goin' down…

“Excuse me…” a hand taps my shoulder gently, and I almost jump on my spot, snapping my head to stare at Viggo, aware that my face must be flushed red. He mouths something, and I take one earphone off to listen to him.

“Yes?” I babble like an idiot, and he smiles again, way too widely to deceive the fact he is struggling not to laugh openly.

“I was wondering, how long it takes to this elevator to reach the ground floor?” he asks the odd question with such a serious look on his face, that I force myself to put aside my embarrassment to give him a lucid answer.

“Ahem… from here, a couple of minutes, if it doesn’t stop at any goddamn floor, that is.” I snap my mouth shut, blushing even more,
“I mean, uh, at least two minutes, but it is not likely to stop, most of employers already left and the ones who did not will probably work for another couple of hours, I think…” I bite my lower lip, expecting to sense a huge pair of donkey ears pop out of my head at any time soon, and I shift a foot on the ground, looking down.

“Two minutes, uh?” Viggo repeats pensively, and I nod, making as to put the earphone back on, when he turns away and, to my big surprise, pushes the ‘stop’ button on the control panel.

The elevator jolts abruptly to a hath, and I stare at him, much more confused than I have ever been in my whole, miserable, silly life.

“This will give us a bit of extra time.” He smiles casually, and I shift my eyes all about us, all alone into the still cabin.

“What for?” I ask, dry-throated, antsy and willing to kick both myself, and the Aerosmith.

“For some love in an elevator.” He responds with a malicious grin.

Gonna be a penthouse pauper
Gonna be a millionare
I'm gonna be a real fast talker
And have me a love affair

Gotta get my timin' right
It's a test that I gotta pass
I'll chase you all the way to stairway, honey
Kiss your sassafras

I walk out the elevator, tugging a lock of my hair behind an ear, smoothing the wrinkles of my shirt with the circumstance smile of a young woman who never in this world would do something crazy like what I just did, a young innocent woman who would blush and shrink at the mere thought of it.
Or maybe, of an oblivious young woman who simply went through a day alike countless ones, no drill or thrill or unbelievable kick of luck about it.

I pull the door of my car closed and start the engine; checking my bright smile inside the rear view mirror, I take my MP3 player out my pocket and wire it to the car stereo. Inside the elevator I had paused the crazy, daring Aerosmith song I was listening to, right before the final refrain, and now I push ‘play’ to let music explode inside my car, while I manoeuvre out the parking lot, towards home.

Love In An Elevator
Livin' it up when I'm goin' down
Love In An Elevator
Lovin' it up till I hit the ground

Yes, nothing like naughty, evergreen Aerosmith can bright up a dully day!

--The End.--

This was great Anna made me smile love in an elevator. :yes: Was really kewl. \i love the idea, just randomly have a bad day then that happens to you. Would be cool. Great shortie
With love
me

eeeeeeeeeeeee! I loved it with my whole soul, Mena Lou! It made me smile so big and squeal in a high-pitched fashion!

You know what I love the most......it's destiny! Do you remember the first time I went to Mardi Gras with hobbits? On the way to New Orleans, we got stuck in a traffic jam, so we spent our time day dreaming of hobbit fantasies. One of mine was, "what if we are in an elevator and we stop at a floor and they climb in!" And, about five minutes later Love in an Elevator came on the radio! We diedddddddd! Just like I died over this story! hehehehee!

Now, I always love your style when you write a witty shortie like this....they always make me laugh aloud in the fashion that I get looks of 'what the heck are you doing' from my mom! I must quote!

I love this part! It's quite familiar to the mind.

Holy Batman! That made me laugh so hard I couldn't breathe! It is so true, and I often wonder why picking up a guitar makes a man so 'lay-worthy.' haha!

Oh, I think not! Don't damn destiny, you thank it for giving you a proper hot gift! Oh, destiny. :yes:

The donkey ears really did it for me.......oh the glee and hilarity!

eeeeeeeeeeeeeee! What I wouldn't give to hear Viggo's gravely voice say something like that! I always think of him as this serious, deep soul...but you know he's crazy in a fun, naughty way, too! How I would like to see that side of him! squee!

I loved this, babe. It made a good start to this Saturday morning. Love you!

It is like Amber read my mind and then replied to this glorious story, for most of what she commented on was exactly what I was going to say.

I agree, what is up with all the nasty arsed ugly rock stars getting so much ass that they don't know what to do with. Damn groupies.

Oh my, what I wouldn't give to be in this experience. To see that malicious grin, eyes twinkling and hear his low gravely voice tell me this.

*dies a million deaths*
Girl, are you trying to kill me here?

:blink:
I must hand it to you girl.
Your stories always make me smile.
You have a way of writing that brightens me up or makes me think of things.

I loooove Aerosmith and that song is ehe very naughty indeed.
Oooh and Viggo.....you definitly made me lust after him (how on earth did you do that???)

As always brilliant girl!

I don't check this section very often, so you have to TELL ME WHEN YOU POST SHORTIES!!!!!!!!!!!!

But I'm here now, and ehehe, you're naughty. lol Man, lend me your muse for a few weeks, will you? I'd kill to be able to write ANYTHING at the moment...it doesn't have to pump out stuff as brilliant as this if it doesn't want to...I bow down to your and your shortie goodness!!!

:love:

O, hun, you know that my muse has been on strike lately! I'd lend her if she could use some help, but I am afraid all she would do qould be sit there, smoking cigarettes and making some stupid comments about Brad and Angelina with your own muse!

But, I'm here to brainstorm if you need me. :P