The stairs it is and will be for ever more

I already wasn't in the best frame of mind as I went into the dentist's to book an appointment. I usually walk the three storeys up but today I foolishly got in the ancient rickety lift. It juddered to a halt between the ground and first floors. After a few button-pushes I got it going but it stopped again between the first and second floors and I couldn't get it to move again. I rang the alarm bell and the dental receptionist came out and shouted down at me not to block the gate protection sensor. I called back that I'd seen the sensor and was well back from it. She told me to press the button again. No good. I pressed the alarm bell again. She repeated her order and I repeated my answer. And again. 

Although this was not my first (nor even my second) time stuck in a lift, and I am normally a very calm person, this was not working wonders for my blood pressure which, coincidentally, I had been discussing with the optician next door half an hour earlier. Eventually I coaxed the lift back to the ground floor and walked up. Where the receptionshit (Freudian typo), who could have sympathised, or let me sit down or even offered me a cup of tea, blamed me for blocking the sensor. Which I wasn't.

Probably my most upsetting visit to a dentist ever.