After a little difficulty, Stan managed to shove his supply cart to the corner of the elevator in a flurry of flattened feet and muttered apologies.
He found it interesting the different perspectives he saw as a janitor. Some would tug at the collars of their nice suits and scoff while others would look on in sympathy. Still there were those who plucked candy wrappers off the ground in gratitude. As for the other two in the elevator, they seemed to be lost in their own thoughts.
Taking off his cap, Stan scratched his head casually. He was what the other janitors called a 'whippersnapper'--the youngest in the pack. In fact, this job was to earn money for college where he planned to aspire to something great; at least something greater than scrubbing toilets.
In the meantime, however, his goal was to reach floor three.