Tales in an elevator

I've had two recent encounters in my apartment elevator that I have deemed blog-worthy.

1. You will remember I bought the fake Hermes purse. I've had a few people think it's real - which was the whole point - but last week a woman got on the elevator with a little boy, and she was carrying my purse in tan. I opened my mouth to say "love your bag!" and show her mine, but then I saw the small gold lettering HERMES on the front. Annnnnd scene. I cowered in the corner for the rest of the elevator ride.

2. Last night I played softball for the first time in 10 years. (Not particularly well, but not particularly terrible either.) I got on the elevator to go to my apartment around 10:45pm, and a man I've chatted with before got on as well. We used to run into each other in the building's gym, and he is at least 65. Handsome, but 65. So we chatted, he asked if I lived by myself (red flag!), I said yes (idiot!), and then he asked if I'd like to get off on his floor and have a glass of wine with him in his apartment. Ummmm pass. Thank god for my dog. The best excuse in the world. Should be fun times the next time I run into him. Oof.