Elevator Etiquette

I live on the 8th in a flat that’s 18 stories high, so naturally there’s an elevator present. It’s slow, small, and sometimes it stinks, but it’s an elevator nonetheless. Now I read an article somewhere that people don’t greet each other anymore in elevators. We don’t seem to have that problem. In our elevator it’s custom to say bye when someone leaves, and if you happen to get in while there’s already people inside, you say hi. The rest of the ride you spend actively not looking at each other, this includes avoiding the big mirror on the far side of the elevator because it might look like you’re checking people out in the mirror or worse, checking yourself out. I usually spend the time looking at the numbers changing above the door, and searching for the right key to use when I get out. Anything to drive away the awkward silence when you’re just standing there staring straight ahead, suddenly aware of every tiny detail of your appearance, like the way you’re standing, the way a sniff is suddenly super loud in the otherwise silent elevator, and the way you raise your hand to wipe away a stray hair. It’s all suddenly awkward.

There’s another thing about elevators that bothers me. I don’t know if I’m alone in this observation but let me explain it like this. Have you ever gotten onto an elevator and someone else joined you and he or she presses the 1st floor button. This person is not injured in any way that you can see, he’s not on skates or otherwise stairway-challenged. And when said person gets off on the 1st floor, I can’t help but think to myself he should’ve just taken the stairs. Saving the rest of us some time and giving himself a tiny bit of exercise. It was just one set of stairs after all. However, by thinking about stuff like this I notice I sometimes find myself checking the buttons other people press, and mentally weighing which person has the most ‘right’ of using the elevator. For example when I’m on the elevator with two other people, one who’s going to the 11th floor, and one for the 17th, I can’t help but notice I’m the most likely stairs candidate. I usually comfort myself with the fact that 8 is still pretty high up, and no one would really expect me to take the stairs, but I can’t help but be aware of the fact that I’m the one with the smallest (or I should say lowest) excuse to use the elevator. On the other hand, when I’m on the elevator with someone heading for the 4th and someone for the 6th, I can’t help but feel pretty good about myself. Surely I would take the stairs if I lived on the 4th. Right?

Well I’m beginning to see this ramble for what it is, which is: awkwarrrrd. Ok so it’s just this way of thinking that I have. No big deal.

Ah hell.