Katya snickered at the other chick's response. "Not it, either," she agreed. Despite what her mother would say. She perked up a bit at the notion of a phone to call maintenance; she sure as shit didn't want to be stuck in an elevator for any length of time. Except maybe with someone who was super hot, with a bottle of liquor.
She could just barely see the others in the dim red emergency lighting, but that didn't stop her from looking over at the chick she'd been talking to and mouthing an incredulous, "Sunny Jim?" soundlessly to her. She didn't think anyone ever actually used that phrase except the rednecks she saw on TV, usually right before they snapped, went batshit, and murdered some poor hitchhiking teenagers with a bone saw.
She watched a lot of horror movies.
Either way, she rolled her eyes when he got pissy and slammed the phone down after yelling at whoever was on the other end. Never mind that she'd done much the same her first morning when she'd realized she couldn't leave, but this was different. "Calm your tits, Jimbo," she advised, leaning back against the wall and crossing her arms nonchalantly. It was easier to feel calm now that she knew it was a power outage and not like, the elevator about to drop them however many feet to the ground in a painful crash. "I'm sure they're working on it." Despite the voice in the back of her head wondering if they were nor not. After all, who would they complain to? They couldn't leave the hotel. Katya ignored that voice for now, however, because it was much more fun to play Devil's Advocate to the twitchy redneck.