The escalator
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I love the phone booths.
I really can't remember the last time I stood in a phone booth, or phone stand, whatever it was called.
They used to have a row at the airport. A long row!
That was probably the last time, at an airport.
Maybe at a restaurant.
I wonder what the conversation was, and with whom. Probably calling home.I wonder what year that was?
Does the phone remember me?
Like two ships, passing in the night.
Oh well. I was peeved when they kept raising the cost. But at least it was a reason to have change in my pocket.I needed change for the phone, and for the candy machine. Oh, and parking meter. Maybe a newspaper machine if out of town. I don't miss not having change. Some days it was too much and too heavy in my pocket. My wife's purse weighed a ton.
Oh yeah, the topic back on topic.Thanks, escalator!
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Now I am curious to see how they will get the old escalator recertified and how that will impact their insurance policy and premiums.
Not sure who among our regulars can comment on certification and insurance for really old escalators, but maybe there is parallel somewhere with classic cars? Who can comment on how insurance companies underwrote policies for classic cars, especially in cases where you really want to put the classic cars into service on public roads?
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@axtremus said in The escalator:
Now I am curious to see how they will get the old escalator recertified and how that will impact their insurance policy and premiums.
Not sure who among our regulars can comment on certification and insurance for really old escalators, but maybe there is parallel somewhere with classic cars? Who can comment on how insurance companies underwrote policies for classic cars, especially in cases where you really want to put the classic cars into service on public roads?
Knock yourself out....
