HWIL and I dwell in a high rise building whose pants are so fancy that
they have been known on occasion to take tea with the Queen of England.
Our building is all new and shiny. It has free (and compulsory) valet
parking. A doorman. The fanciest earthquake proofing outside of Tokyo.
Bells and half a dozen whistles. And our apartment has views like this:
and this:
And on days on which I _really_ want to show off to a guest who is visiting our home for the first time ever, views like this:
The game controls look like this:
Step 1: Enter elevator.
Step 2: Hit your floor number.
Step 3: Wait for all other gamers to complete steps 1 and 2.
Step 4: Allow elevator doors to slide smugly shut and await the coronation.
If your floor is the highest, you are crowned the E. of the the E. and all minions must bow and scrape before you and bend to your superior will. In my experience, the tighter you close your eyes, the more effectively they grovel. On days on which the crown does not adorn your brow, do not be disheartened. You can play Snob instead. If someone lives more than eight floors below you, they are so low on the social scale that as far as you are concerned they don't exist (Unless they say hello, ruining everything. In which case you smile and exchange pleasantries and when they are done being social you can proceed with your game of Snob). You avoid eye contact and raise your nose just ever so slightly. Press your lips together just so. (Dogs are exempt. You can, and should, _always_ pet the dog - unless it is a rat pretending to be a dog. We have those too). From eight floors below you to eight floors above you, these folks are your peers. A slight smile, a nod, even a few words of conversation are permissible. Folks who live more than eight floors above you are snooty little pricks who think they are better than you are for no good reason and you must seethe resentfully (but quietly and respectfully) in their presence.
It is the little victories that make life worth living.
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