By indirections, find elevators out

You wake up in a New York hotel room, your vision cloudy. You have hazy memories of guests arriving, all grins and champagne glasses, coming in the night before to snort coke as you watched the Weather Channel – only you don't remember inviting anyone over, and you can't seem to figure out who they were.
Nevermind, you think: you like champagne.
Sometimes a bit too much.
It's only after rising with a headache like iron clamps strapped to your temples, squinting at the morning light, that you remember the syringe, and the struggle, and the fact that someone must have drugged you. But why you?
That's when you see that: 1) you are still dressed; 2) your suitcase is gone; and 3) there is a small note taped to your bedside table, next to a free copy of International Salesman. The note says:
    Shakespeare's Hamlet is being performed in an elevator somewhere in Manhattan. You have ten hours to find it.
This is terrible news.

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Blogger Martin said...

SOunds like an ifcomp entry :)

March 05, 2007 2:11 AM  
Blogger tank said...

how can a paper note possible contain a hyperlink? :P

March 05, 2007 4:55 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Sounds like Mission Impossible to me. C64 meets Cronenberg/Lynch/Kafka?
--gheist

March 05, 2007 6:31 AM  
Blogger Tim said...

The question, then, is which mezzanine level it will begin on. The second, probably, but not for sure.

hm . . .

March 05, 2007 6:34 AM  
Blogger Geist said...

I've got more concerns about the ending...i seem to recall a maniacal laugh, men in black wearing trilby hats, no...way...out...

March 05, 2007 7:19 AM  
Blogger CoralPoetry said...

Hi,

Why would you want to watch a drama when you could BE one?

You could close the blinds, kill the lights, pour the remaining champagne over yourself, stab yourself in the head with the empty syringe and crawl under the bed and play dead.

Regards,
Coral

March 05, 2007 7:21 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

You are in an open field west of a big white house with a boarded front door.

There is a small mailbox here.

March 05, 2007 7:52 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

sounds like stuff that might happen here:

http://www.flickr.com/photo_zoom.gne?id=242140063&size=o&context=set-72157594182481394

March 05, 2007 9:13 AM  
Anonymous Beat said...

Your other posts usually have a clear point or meaning behind them.

Not to say this entry doesn't, but I don't "get" it.

March 06, 2007 10:46 PM  
Blogger Geoff Manaugh said...

Sorry, Beat. I just like the idea of using elevators for unexpected purposes - despite being mobile rooms, they're rather unimaginatively used for nothing but vertical transport.

I also swoon at the overwhelming difficulty behind having to locate one specific elevator, amidst all of Manhattan, in which something strange is going on. Imagine! Pushing buttons, waiting patiently, doors opening... but nope - wrong elevator.

Next building...

March 07, 2007 3:53 PM  
Anonymous Beat said...

Once again your mind astounds me!

I like the way you often go off on a complete tangent, which is always interesting and thought provoking.

A good example was your article in which the architect walks though the city and sees all his stolen designs bought to life!

March 07, 2007 9:50 PM  
Blogger Jaron said...

le parker meridien... what's more important than elevators??? go to the hidden hamburger joint in the lobby!

March 08, 2007 11:45 AM  
Blogger Hajra said...

on another tangent, there was such office building in Prague, or elsewhere in Czech rep., the headquarters of shoe manufacturers Batta, where the director's office was in an elevator, so he could inspect the work on all floors better. or maybe so everyone could watch his private performance of hamlet?!

March 16, 2007 4:50 PM  

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