Morning, folks! Wow, is it 9:03 a.m., already? Guess you better get in here. Those everything bagels you’re holding aren’t getting any warmer. Wouldn’t want you to be late on my account. After all, this is your high-rise elevator to work just as much as it’s also my apartment.

Let me wipe off the shaving cream and stow my kit bag where the emergency phone used to be. I yanked the cord on that baby and tossed it in the bins on L3 to make this medicine-cabinet-sock-drawer-mini-fridge. Well, fridge when the ice machine on 25 is working. Damn finicky thing.

Here, let me punch the buttons since my damp Bonobos Stretch Chinos are hanging in front of the control panel. Keith, 18th floor, right? Mort, 57. And Janice, 33, as I recall. How’s the affair going with Tony up on 62, by the way? Oh, sorry. Thought your upper-floor ride frequency was down this week. Well, let’s get this lift a lifting! I don’t know about you, but that buzzer is annoying the shit out of me!

Mort, can you hand me my suede Wallabees from the shoe rack? And while you’re at it, grab that plastic tub. You’re next on the dish schedule. I’ll get the doors while you fill it in the men’s room on 12. I promise not to hit the wrong arrows and squash your larynx like I accidentally did Keith’s that time. Sorry about the nasty bruise, Keith. Also, grab the Scent Essentials Palmolive off the brass handrail. My 3-quart Le Creuset needs to soak from the Kale soup I made last night, which probably explains the burnt veggie smell in here. Next time I’ll go easy with the camp stove.

Hey, did you guys hear? We’re getting new art! Maintenance is scheduled to replace this blood donation poster with a flyer for the Harvest Bank food drive. Should really up the feng shui in here. And no stinginess this year, Del. I know how you are with food drives. Not to mention those quick trips to 31 to steal office supplies. I’m always watchin’, ha ha!

Hmmm, wonder why we’re stopping on 17? Tough luck, Keith, you had one floor to go. It’s probably Fedrik from CodeSolutions hitting the roof for a smoke. Or Melinda popping up to casually stalk Brendan on 52. You know about that kind of thing, Janice. Could also be Judd hitting the restroom on 30. He goes up there because he doesn’t like “taking care of business” on his own floor. But I think we all know his shoes, whatever floor he “visits.”

Judd! Come on in, buddy! 30? Still sporting the checkered Vans, I see. It’s getting cramped in here so let me close up my foldaway. Wendy, you mind holding the dirty linen while I lean this puppy against the south panel? Just drape the fitted sheet over the handrail to air out the sleep funk. My apologies, I usually have this done by now. I’m a little behind.

Speaking of, some of you haven’t kicked in for last month’s rent. As always, I pro-rate based on the number of minutes you’re at “home.” Del, hand me that clipboard. Let’s see, split 353 ways after the layoffs at DigitalSystems, Janice you owe $2.18. Judd, $1.94. Mort, well, look at you! $3 even! That doesn’t happen often. You’re only 96 cents, Keith. Nice to be on those lower floors, huh? Makes up for being a temp. Wendy, you’re $4.85. Like to get that from you before Friday, if possible. I hear DigitalSystems is having more layoffs. Fredrik, you were $7.43 this time around. Boy, rents these days! It’s that rooftop smoking habit, I’m tellin’ ya. Hey, when your divorce is final you should ask Janice out. She’s the red sweater dress pressed into your left buttock.

I notice you’re all looking up. Is that to catch WE’s Bridezillas marathon on the flat screen I installed in the ceiling? I knew that’d be the perfect spot. The Comcast bill is also due, but I’ll get back to you on how it breaks down. Not everyone should have to chip in for NFL Redzone.

Why, yes, Mort, I do have change for a five. Step aside while I lift back the industrial carpet and open the safe. Can someone hit the stop button, please? Might as well grab the gazpacho from the walk-in while I’m down there. It’ll be lunch soon. Hope somebody didn’t already eat it even though it wasn’t theirs, Nev.

Cold-pressed beet juice anyone?

Hold tight, be back in a jiff. Meantime, Janice, if you could just set out some coasters. And, Del, fluff the pillows in the rattan chair, that’d be super. Honestly, I don’t know how I’d do it without you guys. I love having such great roommates in this high-rise elevator that’s also my apartment.

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