I am waiting for the elevator at the courthouse. I am on the 11th floor. The only other person waiting is a disheveled looking Hispanic man. He’s wearing a denim jacket with jeans (a little Canadian tuxedo action). I am standing far away from him, but I notice him walking toward me. He gets RIGHT up behind me and is breathing REALLY heavily through his mouth. I shoot him an evil death stare, and move to the other side of the waiting area. Before I know it, he is making his way toward me again, and he is STILL all breathy! I move again! This keeps happening. He’s following me and breathing on me. I am practically pacing the vestibule to keep him away. Finally, I can’t take anymore.
Me: YES?!
Him: [indecipherable muttering]
Me: I’m sorry, what was that?
Him: Oh me! Oh me! I’m sorry. I’m trying to get to 5.
Me: You need to get to the 5th floor?
Him: Yeah…
Me: Alright...
Elevator comes. I go in and I press 1, then move to the back corner. He comes in behind me and just stands in the elevator looking confused. The door closes, and he is still standing there bewildered.
Me: You’re going to 5, right?
Him: Yes.
Me: [presses 5]
Him: Oh, thanks…
He gets off at 5.
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