2 hours ago
1
Most people don’t relish being locked in a confined space, in close proximity to strangers, travelling at speed. And yet, so many people do nothing to elevate the experience for others.
I am floored at the enthusiasm of people who stand at the crack of elevator doors waiting for them to open, as if it were 9am at the Black Friday sales. When the doors open, they recoil in surprise – presumably they were expecting to be the first passengers on the maiden voyage of this metal tube sliding up and down the building’s shaft.
Should you need to get out as these elevator enthusiasts are entering, they appear positively annoyed, and rather than stepping out of the way, stay rooted in position, turning their body sideways, providing you with a sliver of a fleshy human funnel to squeeze through. This brings me the only pleasure I can derive from being in a packed elevator – seeing the faces of these people when they realise no one is getting out and they have to wait for the next one. However, such delight quickly morphs into discomfort at having to silently, awkwardly blink through the long three-to-eight seconds that the doors hang open.
By the way, jabbing the close button repeatedly has zero impact.
Once in the elevator, there are numerous unspoken rules – unspoken being one of the most important. When you enter with a stranger, all talking must stop. Even if you enter with your work bestie who has tea to spill (hot liquids should also be avoided), pause the conversation. Wait until you get out. On the phone? Tell them you’ll call them back. Tempted to strike up a conversation with the stranger in the elevator? Please don’t.
But what really pushes my buttons is people who stand at the front of the elevator, in the way of others. Surely they know one must go stand against the wall, starting at the back, facing the door until all the wall space is full? Should you be one of the last people to enter the torture chamber, your punishment is to enter the nucleus and be non-sexually touched by strangers on all sides.
After a brief glance of acknowledgment at other passengers, have the courtesy to avoid eye contact. Either cast your eyes down or watch the numbers slowly tick past as you pass each floor.
If demand is high and there are loads of people in line to get on, lift your game and make space for others. Put your phone away. Take your backpack off. Unless, of course, it’s strategically hanging over the head of a small child and you’re playing a game of human Tetris.
But above all, please, when the doors close on a crammed elevator, do not be the person to say “apparently this space is meant to hold 25 people” because while your captive audience will smile and laugh politely, you will not end up with a Netflix standup special.
