February 14, 2015. Nuevo Vallarta, Mexico. Elevators.

When the elevator door opens, I get out, even if I am on the wrong floor.    I am not alone in having this habit.  This afternoon, we four were in the elevator along with two other men.  They stopped at the 3rd floor and Ian got out with Rita in the wheel chair.  I hollered at him and pushed the button to hold the door open and eventually he figured what we were saying and got back in so we could all continue down to the 1st floor.

This morning, I went down to have documents scanned and e mailed at our concierge, Marlin.   She is a nice lady so we chatted a bit and then I headed up to our condo, all the while looking at the forms.  I pushed the button for our floor and got in.  I was alone.  When the doors opened, I got out and walked down the balcony to our unit.  When I arrived, I noted that the door was locked.  I had left the bolt open and did not take a key.   I knocked gently on the door.  Then I knocked again but harder.  No one came.  Next I went back to the buzzer and rang it twice.  And I rang it again, but all to no avail.  No one would come and let me in.

Finally, my brain clicked into gear.  I was on the 5th floor.  Fortunately, no one was home at 501.  When I went back to the elevator and pushed the correct button 7, I found the door with the dead bolt left open so I could just walk in at 701.   Everyone was home waiting for me.

Once I did the same thing at a hotel.  I was giving a talk the next day and had gone down for dinner but when I got to my room, my electronic key card would not work.  Then I realized that I was at the wrong room and on the wrong floor so back I went to the front desk to ask for the number of my room.  That took some explaining but was easily fixed.  They did wonder about me I bet.   Now I must remember to look before I get out of the elevator.  Next time I will.