About 6 years ago at the W in Chicago I go to get on the elevator from my floor and when the doors open who do I see? Manute freaking Bol.
He had to slouch a lot to fit, it was just me and him for a while down then the doors opened and two little old ladies were on the other side. They both took one look at him and did not get on the elevator. It was like they thought he was some sort of monster or something due to his incredible size (he wasn't nearly as skinny as his playing days). They had plenty of space just outright chose to stay away. Manute and I exchanged glances as if to say "that was awkward" because the whole time the doors opened and closed no one said anything. We rode the rest of the way together and I told him to have a nice day on my way out but he didn't respond that I can remember, maybe he gave me a nod or something like guys sometimes do.
Kind of a weird moment in my life. I wasn't 100% sure it was him 'til after I googled his picture.
RIP elevator friend
Topic: Manute Bol dead (Read 4202 times)