When I was the director of a non-profit organization, I had to appear before the city council every year to renew our fund-raising permit. The first time I had to do it, I was petrified. So I put on my favorite suit, a rose one that I felt very confident in, and headed to the council session. I wasn't afraid of getting the permit because my organization had been around for a while and was highly respected, but I didn't like talking in public.
I got in the elevator at the city building and it got stuck, of course, partly between floors. The car was about half way above the door opening. The building people got the door open, but to get out of the elevator, you had to climb. I asked them to tell the council that I would be late.
The building people handed a chair down into the elevator and the guy in there with me and I had to step up on the chair, shimmy through the opening and crawl out. Needless to say, my beautiful suit had dirt and grease on the front of it and one of my panty hose legs was ripped.
By then, I had completely lost my fear of appearing before the council because I was still a bit afraid of elevators and I was wiped out completely by the experience. When I was called up for my presentation, I barely got a word out when the chairman said, "No, you've been through enough today. Permit granted!"
I hope I never get stuck in an elevator again. Unless, of course, I'm stuck with Javier Bardem or Jason Momoa....LOL