The last person riding with me gets off on floor twelve, leaving me alone in the elevator. When the doors close behind them, I let out a scream of sheer delight like a nine-year-old girl on Christmas morning.
“Yes!” I shout, throwing both hands into the air. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!”
I literally cannot believe it. I go right into my silly dance and am still in the midst of it when the elevator dings and the doors open into the lobby, at which point I go right into pretending there’s something wrong with my shoe as several people get on. Then I quickly make my way out, and grinning like a schoolgirl, march out into the sunny streets of Manhattan and call a cab.
The first one passes me, by but the second stops. I slide in the backseat.
“Saks Fifth Avenue, please.”
“
