Being in the Elevator Industry is a strange cult like environment. Aaron has had this trade since before I met him, which is going on 10 years. But only in the last few years have I developed a better understanding of these men. I thought it was just my husband, but it’s not. They seem to be very similar to each other and I’m sure all his coworkers who regularly read my blog will vouch for me, right guys? Ummm, sure!
I’ll share a few tidbits with you about these men. And yes, I will categorize them all in one lump sum. I will be making stereotypes and generalizations. But that’s my first amendment right.
I can spot an elevator man a mile away. I know their uniforms, their black/navy pants with usually a Nextel hanging out the pocket, and a set of ridiculous amount of keys hanging out the other one, and the look that they’re doing something really important on their face. Usually that face has some kind of facial hair, generally one area, usually the chin, and depending on their age, that hair length can vary. A shaved head is typical, but not necessary. And tattoos are a must. My husband is the exception here, and let me tell you, the ONLY exception I have met to this rule. I have been to a place with hundreds, okay, thousands of these guys, and the ink is insane. This is one exception I don’t like, I wouldn’t mind a tattoo on him. . .but that’s another post.
Surprisingly, the vast majority are married and have children. And you’ll often see an elevator van or truck with a carseat booster in the front seat. Speaking of their vehicles, my husband is oblivious to everything, but not an elevator vehicle. He can spot those blocks away and tell you which company’s truck it is and half of the time the driver of the vehicle. It’s a small, tight trade and very incestuous. It’s crazy, but I could not tell you which companies my husband has worked for or the last 3 names of his bosses. Everybody knows everybody. And they’re the prima donnas of the construction world. And yet. . .they think they can really do anything. Because they have the word mechanic in their title they think they are a mechanic of all things. Autos, plumbing, electrical, I bet my husband thinks he can fix a Boeing 747 too.
Another tell tale sign you’re in the elevator with an elevator mechanic is when he holds the door open to check the door locks out or tells you the brand of elevator it is, or which company services it, and why it’s a piece of crap since it’s not his company.
They are also really into each other. Seriously. On Monday I met my husband for a quick lunch across the street from my job. We were waiting in line and these two guys were totally checking me out. I kind of ignored it and looked the other way, and then one guy said something to the other and then they both were staring. At this point I went to go get a latte next door and when I come back I find my husband sitting next to them chatting it up! Yep, they weren’t checking me out. They were checking him out! That’s right, I guess they are bosses at the company my husband used to work for and they totally recognized the elevator uniform he was wearing. And like all incestuous relationships they offered him a job back at their company. They check out each other’s uniforms, what truck are you driving, what kind of meter are you using, what phone do you have. . .I can go on.
Lesson learned, don’t think any man is checking you out, they very well could be checking your husband out, especially in L.A., and especially if he’s an elevator mechanic.