Best thing about blackouts is you get stuck in the elevator

Class ended and I reached the apartment's elevator at 10.32. "Blackout at 11," I assured myself it was safe and entered.

Then it blacked out at 10.35.

I grumbled at the too early blackout. Got my handphone's assistive light on and assessed. Everything was in place and I wasn't claustrophobic, but I was already swesting. I was stuck at the planked out door of second floor so I can't just push the door and get out.

Hit the emergency bell, nothing. Banged the wood for attention. There was no reception in the elevator so I can't call my housemates for help.

I heard one of the landlord's kids yelling "Is someone in the elevator?"

"Yeah!" I yelled back.

"Okay hold on." He went to fetch his dad.

Landlord asked if I was okay, if there was any problem. I was good. I had a liter of water, tissues and light with me. I can survive an hour. But my room is better than this cramped too-hot place.

I wondered how were they going to get me out. Do they unscrew the top like in the movies? Do I have to crawl out? I put my groceries inside my backpack just in case.

And then I felt the elevator slowly rise upwards. They must have manually pull the elevator up. Landlord was waiting for me at the opened third floor door with an emergency light. He yelled for his kids to stop pulling the elevator up.

"Sorry for the blackout."

"No problem." I stepped out of the elevator at 10.45. Their messed up circumstances are such an embarrassment that a regular citizen had to apologize for the military screw-ups. "Thank you for getting me out. Thank you a lot."

I took my leave, saying thanks until he was out of sight. Took the stairs up to the seventh floor, saying my gratitude to his wife and the four little soldiers I passed on my way. Thank you guys, syukran jazilan, kattar kheirkum.

And thank you Sissy for the typical expectedly-unexpected of Egypt and Tahya Masr!