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We just got done watching Girlfight in this little theatre. It's about midnight and we walk around a bit before taking the elevator back down to the level of the parking garage where we parked our car.

There, beautifully gleaming and pretty, is a big button labeled "STOP".

"So, have you ever pulled the stop button?" I ask.

"Hmm, nope."

"Well, do it."

He does. The elevator stops and we start laughing. This is too funny! This is cool! Haha, do you think we'll get in trouble? I wonder how people have sex in elevators, the floor is so dirty!

"Okay, let's start it again," I say. He pushes the button back in. Nothing. He pulls it back out, pushes it in. No good.

"Oh shit.." Well, that's okay. Let's use the phone they have in here. We open the little black box, pick it up and it begins dialing automatically.

"We're sorry, the number you have reached has been disconnected or is no longer in service, if you would..." Shit. There's not even a latch up top to crawl out of like the movies. The door won't jam open but for a few inches, we're stuck in the middle of two floors, and it's midnight on Sunday with nobody around.

Needless to say, we sat in that dingy little elevator for a full hour screaming and yelling in hopes someone would hear us. Finally, we picked up the telephone that automatically calls to a number and click on the plunk (the little hanger up thingie) to dial 911 like we'd seen in some movie. After a few times, it worked!

A half hour later and lots of noise made by some tools, the elevator door is jammed open and on the other side stands 6 firemen and 2 security guards, staring at us as if we were freaks.

"How'd you get stuck? You didn't pull the stop button, did you?" one of them asks.

"Oh no.. we're not that stupid."