In a Handbasket

I am at the ICCC conference in St. Louis. Both the conference and our lodgings are at a fairly unimpressive Hilton, made slightly more impressive by its proximity both to the Arch and the Cardinals' ball field.

Yesterday I was making my way down to the in-house Starbucks for a little stimulant-assistance before spending a whole day with youth. The elevator filled up gradually on the way down, as most people seemed to have a similar goal in mind. The last group of people in were a few older ladies from this church conference.

"Oh," said one of these nice ladies cheerily, looking at the wall of buttons and seeing only the one for the Lobby lit up. "We're all going to the same place. We're all going to L."

I almost pointed out what she had said. Then I thought better of it. But I'm still snickering.