In a hurry? Stairs not your style? You’re in luck (or elevator country), my friend.

Freight elevators, express elevators and even those funky two-door ones you find in hospitals all seem to get you places in a hurry.

At least it seems that way. All you double-digit floor dwellers at Grant and Stevenson towers, I feel your pain. It feels like an eternity waiting for those motor-propelled lifts when you’re late for class and the R bus just flew past.

But what about the rest of campus? Where’s the best elevator? Or since it is October and certain movies depict elevators in scary ways, how about the freakiest, most claustrophobic elevator on campus?

Zulauf Hall, also known as the giant filing cabinet-esque building for teachers, feels like it’s straight out of “Being John Malkovich.” It has the most dank, grimy, off-white-colored elevators on campus.

At one time, they could have been clean, well-oiled lifting machines. But over the years of use and decay, they’ve been degraded to eerie shells of what once was an effective alternative to stairs. Every time I ride them, I wonder if I will make it out unscathed.

Aside from sheer appearance, the elevators have been home to odd events.

Junior communication major Jason Tozier remembers when one elevator trapped him.

“[The elevator] started going down to the first floor, and the doors didn’t open. We had to force them open with our hands,” Tozier said.

I’m no stranger to elevator antics. Last year, my two roommates and I created Maximum Capacity, a band specializing in live elevator music. Due to our missing television, we played a five-hour show and handed out free condoms at Stevenson’s C-Tower.

The Holmes Student Center is known for its rustic lifts. The peculiar thing about them is they can lock floors, disallowing access. Last year, senior pre-elementary education major Peggy Keiner had a scary moment in the student center’s elevators. “Wherever I wanted to go, it wouldn’t take me there,” she said.

She was trying to get to the Student Association meeting on the 16th floor, but she hadn’t been told it was canceled.

“I pushed the button, but it wouldn’t take me to the floor,” she said. “It took me to the 15th floor instead. As the doors opened, the imminent feeling of doom set in, as what looked to be a hallway from the elevator was shining before me.”

She was greeted with a poorly lit hallway lacking activity.

Luckily, the eeriest part of the Grant and Stevenson elevators is the peculiar marks on the floors, walls, and in a few cases, ceilings.

The creepiest, most sinister elevator on campus goes to The Holmes Student Center for the total lack of knowing exactly which floor someone will end up on.