Going up?

 I boarded the elevator on the first floor.  A guy who must have got on in the parking garage under the building was already there drinking his coffee and reading the paper and trying to step off before he should have.  He looked up in time to realize the elevator had not climbed enough but not in time to not look foolish.  “This isn’t my floor,” he said, stopping and stepping back awkwardly.

“Not quite there yet?” I asked hoping to alleviate some of his tension. 

“Not yet,” the quickness of his response impressed me, “I think I need some more coffee.”

I chuckled.  Usually I wouldn’t, but at that moment it was funny. 

“First day back from vacation and I just can’t quite get it together,” he said.  I didn’t pry.  I don’t care where he went on vacation.  I figure if he wants me to know he’ll tell me anyway.

“Just gotta hit your stride,” I said waiting for him to decide how he wanted the conversation to go with one floor left between us and his destination. 

“Don’t I know it.  Six days straight in Colorado, fly fishing, it was beautiful.”

“That sounds amazing,” I reassured him. 

“It was.  Now I’ve got to get back to the grind.”

“Good luck with that.”  Then he exited and the doors closed.