Elevator To Nowhere

I live on the sixth floor of an eight-floor complex, with the lobby on the third floor. Given that the stairs are not placed for convenient use, we generally take our nearest elevator. It's an Otis. Of course, there are placards with all the usual comments about not panicking if the elevator gets stuck. There is very little chance, we are told, of running out of air. Very little? Fabulous! But that's not the craziest thing.

Los Angeles has to send out an elevator inspector for each unit every year. This person comes from the city's engineering division to ensure that these marvels of modern life not only function, but do so in a safe manner. On the posted form, there to assure us that the elevator we are using will remain safe for yet another orbit around the sun, are numerous ratings. It is designed for 3,000 pounds, or 20 people. I'm pretty wiry as people over six feet go, and I'm over 150 these days, if only by 10 pounds. I remain lighter, however, than many much shorter than I. Someone needs to update the math.

Better still, these elevators are rated for "1 to 10 Landings," and that's the part that really puzzles me. We have nine landings (garage plus eight occupied floors), and that works well. Our north elevator doesn't go down to 1 or the garage, and that's probably because no one wants to live or park that far under the hill that rises to its peak in the northeast. It does, however, still manage seven landings. What I want to know is this: what is the point of an elevator that serves 1 landing? You get on and press your floor, but guess what? You're already there! Civil and mechanical engineers, or perhaps the L.A. beaurocrats really need a lesson in reasoning, though I must admit to being afraid of the cost of such a correction.

Good Grief!