Suspended in Time

Written yesterday, somehow:

I drank way too much wine last night.
I still feel gross when I think about it.
I was at that casino again.
You're stuck in an elevator with a person of whatever gender you like to have sex with.
After a meal of the snacks and cat food you were returning home with, you get to talking.
An organic, easy conversation that lasts the entire twelve hours.
Discussing and laughing until the repairman finally shows up
("Jesus, I though it said St. John, not St. John's. Terribly sorry.").
He explains that he'll just need another half hour, and then he can let you out.
After the repairman calls down this information, your liftmate locks eyes with you and says, "I love you."
Do you believe it's possible you'd ever say it back?
Bear in mind, by now you've urinated in front of this person.
Hard part's over. 
Rewind.
He doesn't say "I love you," but he was out for cooking sherry before this whole ordeal.
You begin drinking it half an hour before the repairman's requisite half hour.
The liftmate says nothing this time, but takes off their shirt. And pants/skirt/leotard.
Do you think it's more likely you'd say "I love you, too."
Or bone this person in the elevator?
I know my answer.
I know yours, too.
We're all monkeys out there.
Monkeys looking for a friend.

While you're screwing, the elevator man is on the phone.
That's why he needed the half hour.
The story is too funny to wait.
He has to call his elevator buddies and tell them about it.
St. John.
St. John's.

It's an easy mistake to make.