Another place I must consider crossing off my list of places to go is the University if I wish to avoid my SPOTD. Come to think of it, I’ve known it is a hotbed of stupidity for some time now, so it should not come as too much of a surprise that my encounter was there.

I had some quick work in the Student Resource Centre to do, on the 3rd floor of the Union Building, so I drove in to the campus, and walked to the lift on the ground floor. The doors must have just closed as I turned the corner, because when I pressed the button to call the lift, the doors opened and there were people inside. I assumed they had just arrived on their way downward, so waited for them to step out of the lift. When they did not, I realised what must have happened and stepped inside.

There was a man about 30yo, a woman about 20yo and a small boy about 4yo in the lift. Also in the lift, occupying a lot of space was a bicycle, owned by the woman and she had parked it diagonally across the lift as it was the only way it would fit in. Given the way she was dressed, my best guess would be that she was one of those delightful freaks that go to every protest and dress like a hippy just because they can be “individuals”. Just like all their friends who are also dressed like hippies because they are all “individuals” too. See their nice designer second-hand clothing? Very retro. Not that they are trying to fit in with the crowd or anything - just so happens they are all individuals that dress the same. But I digress…

Not only did the bicycle belong to the woman, but the child did too. The darling little brat was playing a really good game called “press every floor button” while hippy-mum pretended not to notice. At the first floor, she got out, and created no end of problems trying to get the bicycle out as well as the child before the doors closed. I am yet to figure out why she needed to take the bicycle in the lift and not just chain it up downstairs. Probably trying to save money as a poor student by not purchasing a bike lock or something. Damn hippy freaks. But I digress once more…

After she got out, the other fellow in the lift and myself got the pleasure of watching the lift stop at the second floor because the little brat had pushed the button, even though there was no need to stop there. The lift is slow enough as it is without unnecessary stops, so it was rather irritating.

I’d only been on campus for approximately four minutes by that stage, and I figured I had located my SPOTD. After all, it was going to take a lot to beat an inconsiderate mother dressed as a hippy freak cramming her bicycle into a lift and forcing strangers to move out of her way so she could maneuver the bicycle out of the lift. But there is always someone out there willing to take on the challenge…

I took about ten minutes to do my work in the Student Resource Centre, and was almost finished when a fellow dressed similar to the television character Doctor Who came to the door. Well, not exactly like Doctor Who, but that is what came to mind. Similar sort of hat. Long multi-coloured scarf. Slightly lost facial expression.

He looked at the opening times on the door, saw he had a few minutes left before closing time, and came in. Instead of walking to the front counter to do any business though, he came and stood beside me, picking up a magazine off the bench near me, and began to read it.

The guy behind the counter asked if he could help him with anything, to which Doctor Who responded that he was just reading the magazine and did not need any help. The guy behind the counter then went into another section of the Resource Centre for a few seconds to take care of another task. I finished my work, turned around to place the papers in the box I’d brought, and when I turned back, Doctor Who was gone. As was the magazine he’d been reading.

At the same time, the staff member came back into the main section of the room, and I informed him that his magazine had just departed with Doctor Who. He looked bemused for a second, then replied that the fellow I was calling Doctor Who came in relatively often, and he was glad to see him out of the place, so if it took a magazine to get him to go, so be it. I had finished loading the papers into the box by that point, and it was closing time, so I departed.

Once in the corridor, I headed for the lift, only to see Doctor Who standing beside it, patiently waiting for the doors to open. I would have thought that if it were me, and I had just stolen something, I would have taken the stairs to make a quicker getaway. Since he was considered strange by someone who’d seen him before though, it was not altogether unsurprising to find him making a leisurely departure from the scene of the crime.

He was standing on the other side of the lift doors, and staring at them, waiting for them to open apparently. The buttons to call the lift were on my side, and instinctively I reached out to press the down button, since it was not lit up. As I reached for it, I assumed the globe was blown in it, and that he had pressed it, but it was one of those moments where you push a button that has no doubt been already pushed. As though it could help…

The button had not been pressed. Doctor Who was apparently standing waiting for a lift that he had not called. While I tried to understand such logic, he took out a pen and notepad and began to note the dates of upcoming seminars and events written on a poster prominently next to the lift entrance. The lift arrived and I stepped in, but he did not follow.

I then assumed that I had been too hasty in my judgement, and that he was actually standing reading the poster beside the lift doors when I walked up, and had reached something of interest after I’d pressed the button. He was not, after all, waiting for the lift, apparently in no hurry from the Resource Centre where he had just stolen something.

The lift doors began to close and were two inches off being fully closed when suddenly he thrust his arm into the doors to make them open again. He’d obviously finished his reading and wanted to now take the lift, but rather than just get in when it first arrived, he’d waited until the last possible second. He stepped in, walked to the back of the lift (only a couple of steps) and turned around. The lift doors began to close again, and suddenly he came to life once more.

Leaping frantically toward the doors, he grabbed them and tried to push them open gain. The sensors inside registered the presence of something in the doors so opened fully again. Doctor Who then stood in the centre of the doorway, with his feet just inside the lift, one hand on either door, and hung his head and torso out into the corridor, scanning the floor as if he was looking for dropped pens or something.

I could not fathom this behaviour at all, but was getting a little frustrated by it. After all, I was the one that called the lift, and had been ready to depart, only to have to wait for him to open the doors twice as they closed. Even now, the doors of the lift were having a little fit as they tried to close, sensed the presence in the doorway, and reopened, then tried to close immediately again.

I got his attention by saying “Mate!” in an exasperated tone, and he turned toward me with a response that I could not understand. It was not muttered softly. It was not a foreign language. But it was not English either. He just said in a normal speaking volume “Rmbgrgerfmbmbmbermernb”. It was literally just mumbling aloud as though part of a conversation. Said in a tone that indicated he was doing nothing wrong, he turned back from his mumbling toward me, and continued to look up and down the corridor.

“Get in or get out! Make your choice but do it fast!” I responded in a rather aggressive voice. Doctor Who decided that he wanted to be in the lift, and so stepped backwards, allowing the doors to close. He then stood, watching me sullenly for the trip down to the ground floor, not saying a word. As we arrived at the ground floor and the doors opened, he stepped forward toward the door, then turned to face me and said in a very loud voice “RMEBERBMERMBERMBBERFGERFBFERMF!”, pointing at me. I’ve no idea what he meant, but I responded by telling him he “should f*** off back to Planet Zog!”

I imagine the person waiting for the lift at the ground floor was a little startled to wait forever for the lift to arrive, and when it did, for Doctor Who to be inside yelling gibberish, followed by a fellow in an Akubra telling him where to go. Probably thought it was street theatre or something…

Anyway, as much as I thought an inconsiderate bike-wielding mother and her button-pushing brat were going to take the SPOTD award, Doctor Who was the definite winner for the day.

Categories: SPOTD