Want to creep out a couple of grown men in broad daylight in the lobby of a busy high-rise office building?
Start by making it a normal day. Our hero, Kevin, has pulled into his usual parking spot. He's decided to take the skywalk today, because humidity is high and though he does love his skin to glow he prefers to keep the natural ooze to a minimum. As he passes security—hip-looking leather laptop bag over his shoulder, cool neck tie, untucked shirt, dark jeans with the cuffs turned up, off-white Converse Chucks, strut in his walk—he's feeling pretty good about the morning. It's a new day. New challenges ahead. New opportunities to spread a nice sheen of awesome over the receptive sliced bread of the folks he works with.
Enter an associate, a guy Kevin has seen before, nodded to briefly, but hasn't had the chance to chat with much. The two, in the groove of routine, round the corner from lobby to elevator banks—and stop.
Every elevator, on either side, eight in total, is standing with doors wide open.
Our hero and his associate stand perfectly still, stare, wonder. Should we run? Should we step cautiously forward? "That's not creepy or anything," Kevin finally says, and the trance is broken.
Time for action, consequences be damned!
They step into the elevator with the indicator light glowing above it. In retrospect, following the light may not have been the wisest choice. But at the time, it seemed the more reasonable move. The light, they can trust. The light is their guide. The light leads upward.
Doors close. Two men chuckle nervously. Elevator rises. And, as they make idle chatter, the ping of reaching their floor is heard and both exit, smiling sheepishly, agreeing in their silent nods never to speak of this incident again.
The day continues.
Or. Does. It?
Yes it does.