Escalator of Doom

Today I went to a store that requires you to ride an escalator up to the second floor.  Escalators are very useful and helpful, but lately I have a recent fear of escalators.  This recent fear is all because of a traumatic experience that I had on December 29, 2010.

I had traveled to Nepal (another story for another time) with a friend of mine, and I was excited to see Kathmandu, Pokkhara, and to stay with a Sherpa family in Kakani.  At one point before you exit the international airport in Kathmandu, you have to go down an escalator.  I have been on escalators hundreds (if not thousands) of times, as far as I can remember nothing traumatic has happened to me.  My friend and I had picked up our bags and we were behind a local couple going down the escalator.  They were probably a few steps in front of us and there were also people a few steps behind us.  Nothing out of the ordinary, just a typical ride on an escalator.

The couple in front of me decided to drop all of their bags at the bottom of the escalator, now you might not think anything of that.  I should be able to walk around them right, not possible they had stopped before completely exiting the escalator.  Picture an escalator, at the top (or, in my case, the bottom) there is the metal part where the stairs cycle back that still has the moving handrails guiding you on further.

Do you have that picture in your mind?!  Now imagine someone in front of you dropping their 5-8 bags in that place, there is no where for you to go, you now have to start walking backwards on the escalator and worrying about getting trampled or even "eaten" by the escalator.  This is what happened to me, I had to start back-stepping up the escalator so as not to fall on top of this couple and their stuff.  But there were people behind me who couldn't see the potential disaster that would be fall me!  I started hyperventilating and I think I might have even blacked out for a second there. Don't worry, I made it out alive!  I think the couple could see the terror in my eyes and the panic that would ensue if they didn't move, and so they pulled one bag out of the way to give me a small space to walk through.

You are probably thinking, big deal so you got semi-trapped on an escalator, but you made it out and you are fine.  I am scarred/scared every time I ride an escalator.  I need to have at least five steps between me and anyone one in front of me when I ride an escalator.

I mentioned this story to my older sister, and then she started talking about when we were young.  We were on an escalator with our grandma and it ate my shoe, and almost my foot as well.  I don't remember this, (probably because it was such a traumatic experience!) but this might explain why I started to hyperventilate when the couple dropped their bags back in Nepal.  Somehow deep in my subconscious I was worried that the escalator was going to "eat" me.

~Adventures in Anything & Everything