A stopped escalator is funny to me. Everything needed for stairs seems to be present: steps, handrails, a top and a bottom. Yet all the proportions belong to a machine that is supposed to move.
It is still an escalator, just one making everybody else do its part of the job.
At 43%, a progress bar looks wonderfully certain. It knows the completed past and the remaining future. What authority.
Then it races to 90%, spends six minutes at 99%, and finishes with a startled jump.
I prefer an honest spinner. It says almost nothing, but at least it does not wear the expression of a civil servant who has misplaced one form and insists everything is proceeding exactly as estimated.