I wanted to type this out two days ago, but I was too tired.
I went to deliver some paperwork to the hospital.
Let me first explain one thing about said hospital: it's not one huge building, it's several huge buildings. I was supposed to go to building1, fifth floor. Sounds easy, right?
I do indeed reach building1. The elevators broke for whatever reason - kept getting stuck in between floors, so I decided I don't want to be stuck in a large box hanging from several wires and reeks of death, so I took the stairs.
I may be a dumbass, but I can climb stairs, right?
I climb to the fifth floor, my thighs are burning, but the place looks weird. I ask the first nurse I bump into, and she tells me I'm in building2, fifth floor.
Last time I checked stairs don't go diagonally. You go half a floor "forward", turn around, and go half a floor "back".
Alright, fine, there's this bridge between the two buildings, so I go through said bridge.
It's horizontal, I might add, no slope no nothing.
I walk around a bit, don't take any stairs or elevators anywhere and see a sign: "building1, third floor, vehicle trauma wing".
What the fuck.
I ask directions for the nearest stairs, stairs for building1. I am directed to building1 stairs, climb two floors up and... Am in building3, seventh floor.
What. The. Fuck.
Building3 is at least 300 meters away! I didn't cross any bridges, I didn't go anywhere but up! I'm a dumbass, but I can tell up from down! I can count four half-floors! What is this fuckery!
At this point I'm freaking out, downloading a navigation app because I'm clearly too incompetent to navigate this crazed place without some AR assistance, and right then and there comes my savior: Karl Marx. Or at least a guy who is a carbon copy of Karl Marx: he got the crazy hobo beard, the hair, the pissed off look, he grabs me by the wrist and drags me where I need to be.
All in all, finding the room I needed took two and a half hours.
I give my papers to a nice lady, exchange pleasantries, I turn back and start looking for the exit.
Another hour and a half of random teleporting around the place.
Going down should be easy, right? Let gravity be your guide?
And yet again I found myself going DOWNSTAIRS, yet ending up at the seventh floor.
Whoever built this place is either a sadist, a quantum mechanics researcher, a troll, or a bit of all three. Getting in and out took roughly four hours. Getting home another hour or so. Really weird day.
I went to deliver some paperwork to the hospital.
Let me first explain one thing about said hospital: it's not one huge building, it's several huge buildings. I was supposed to go to building1, fifth floor. Sounds easy, right?
I do indeed reach building1. The elevators broke for whatever reason - kept getting stuck in between floors, so I decided I don't want to be stuck in a large box hanging from several wires and reeks of death, so I took the stairs.
I may be a dumbass, but I can climb stairs, right?
I climb to the fifth floor, my thighs are burning, but the place looks weird. I ask the first nurse I bump into, and she tells me I'm in building2, fifth floor.
Last time I checked stairs don't go diagonally. You go half a floor "forward", turn around, and go half a floor "back".
Alright, fine, there's this bridge between the two buildings, so I go through said bridge.
It's horizontal, I might add, no slope no nothing.
I walk around a bit, don't take any stairs or elevators anywhere and see a sign: "building1, third floor, vehicle trauma wing".
What the fuck.
I ask directions for the nearest stairs, stairs for building1. I am directed to building1 stairs, climb two floors up and... Am in building3, seventh floor.
What. The. Fuck.
Building3 is at least 300 meters away! I didn't cross any bridges, I didn't go anywhere but up! I'm a dumbass, but I can tell up from down! I can count four half-floors! What is this fuckery!
At this point I'm freaking out, downloading a navigation app because I'm clearly too incompetent to navigate this crazed place without some AR assistance, and right then and there comes my savior: Karl Marx. Or at least a guy who is a carbon copy of Karl Marx: he got the crazy hobo beard, the hair, the pissed off look, he grabs me by the wrist and drags me where I need to be.
All in all, finding the room I needed took two and a half hours.
I give my papers to a nice lady, exchange pleasantries, I turn back and start looking for the exit.
Another hour and a half of random teleporting around the place.
Going down should be easy, right? Let gravity be your guide?
And yet again I found myself going DOWNSTAIRS, yet ending up at the seventh floor.
Whoever built this place is either a sadist, a quantum mechanics researcher, a troll, or a bit of all three. Getting in and out took roughly four hours. Getting home another hour or so. Really weird day.
