The Story of How a Ball Pit Was The Most Stressful Thing of My Life

Just to start off, here’s a picture from said ball pit.

My friend, Joe, and I were at an event called Rose Mansion. It’s basically an Instagramable event, we go as a goofy way to have fun. So my goal in this ball pit was to look like this…

But I looked more like this.

Relooking at these pictures on the train got me thinking. It had me thinking about the sensation of sinking and feeling trapped. The second you were in the ball pit, it literally sucks you into it’s hot, sweaty grips and I felt terrible. It reminded me of how life sometimes sucks me into it’s hot, sweaty grip too. But you know what saved me in both the sense of life and the ball pit? Friends. Joe didn’t hesitate to reach out a hand and help me out (he only laughed a little.) I also know that in life he would be right there to scoop me up when life turns into a ball pit.

It’s easy to feel trapped and want to just give up and accept your fate as being stuck in the bottom of the ball pit. It’s the hardest to stand up alone. But, it’s doable to get out of the ball pit when you ask for help. So, reach out your hand, ask for help, and get out of the dang ball pit!

Moral of the story: don’t be afraid to ask for help. And if you’re having trouble finding someone, find me, I’ll be right there. (Also, there’s a reason there aren’t many adult ball pits, they are awful.)

-Mikayla Olivia Orrson

Press for Help

New Yorkers or tourists,

Have you ever been to the Clark Street station on the 2 and 3 train?

Brooklyn Heights is a lovely (and wealthy) area in Brooklyn. Currently, I work at a hotel restaurant in this neighborhood which means I have to get off everyday at the Clark Street station.

Why is this annoying? Because the only way to get from the train platform to the street is by elevator. So, imagine my frustration as I’m running late to work and having to hold the elevator for people who walk slower then the dead.

Recently, I was on an incredibly packed elevator at this station and I positioned myself as the ‘conductor.’ That’s what I call the person that presses the floors and the door close/open button. On this day, it was me. I was late to work and I was aggressively slamming the ‘close door’ button. Listen here, Frenchies, you can wait for the next elevator, the Brooklyn Bridge isn’t going anywhere.

After the elevator filled up, I finally got the door closed. I was so annoyed, I played me ‘pissy New Yorker card.’ That’s when you look mean and lean on the nearest surface.

The Mean and Lean.

Expect this elevator had a special feature that I learned about.

When I leaned on the wall as my act of ‘Fuck you,’ I hit the PUSH FOR HELP button.

The elevator doors were closed, it’s packed, and not moving. All we hear is the emergency intercom calling.


That’s when the death glares came my way and I tried to morph into the wall.

Hello. What is your emergency?

I didn’t react at first but this one woman looked like she was going to smack the shit out of me so I leaned in.

Umm hi. Mikayla, here. So sorry. I was leaning against the wall. You know the mean and lean. Well, I accidentally hit this emergency button. But, there isn’t an emergency. I’m very sorry. I hope you have a lovely day.

Radio static.

What is your emergency?

I leaned in further and yelled into the intercom.


That last part got me more stares.

Did someone lean against the button?

I sighed.


And just like that, the elevator moved again and we were freed. I can safely say I didn’t make any friends during this experience and I was very late for work.

Moral of the story: karma will get you for being mean and definitely watch where you lean.

-Mikayla Olivia Orrson