Today I spent some time stuck in a lift. This is honestly something that I thought didn’t actually happen outside contrived narratives (where either a personal relationship difficulty is resolved, such as the two aliens who want to kill each other in Babylon 5; or everyone has sex). And yet there we were, five of us stuck in a lift in a refurbished jam factory.
Of course, everyone there was very nice, but next time I’m going to be stuck in a small lift with that number of people, I’d probably go for all the others being models, or a girl band or something. And it being a contrived narrative of the second sort, of course.