mellenish
The elevator doors glide open. I press a button and we--the elevator and I--swoosh quietly up to the fifth floor. I scan my identification tag on the timekeeping machine, return to the elevator, and swoosh up to the eleventh floor. I scan my tag twice more, at two separate doors, to enter the office. This sounds like science fiction but I promise you: it is 2011 and this is my day-to-day life.