Sooner or later, everything becomes performance art

I’m in the elevator with my co-worker.

“Have you ever thought about how much time we spend in this elevator?” he says to me.

“Too much time.”

“Yeah. Way too much. I’m sick of this elevator. They should do something to jazz it up. Some plants.”

“Magazines.”

“TV. A little waterfall in the corner. Make it nice.”

“Like a little oasis. A little stomach churning, ear-blocking, vertically transporting oasis.”

“Yeah. Homey. Or something. There should at least be somthing to do.”

“We could bring in an exercise bike.”

He smiles. “Or a stairmaster.”

“Yes! Let’s put a stairmaster in the elevator.”