Elevator Etiquette

To get to and from my office each day I must ride the elevator up to the 20th floor, at least twice each day. To start with, I hate elevators! I don’t like the enclosed space, the fact that it can (and has) stop(ped) in between floors with me stuck for an undetermined amount of time, but mostly for the complete fear that my 120lbs of weight is going to be all it takes for the cables to snap and send me, and everyone else (though I’m not so worried about their survival) to a high speed crashing, firey death. I’ve been to Disney World- I’ve seen Tower of Terror… I will NEVER go on that ride! How is it that an amusement park can make a falling, out of control haunted elevator into a ride?! That’s fun for people?! You’re all nuts.

Another, slightly less scary, but no less of a reason for me to despise elevators, are the other people, (I can’t bring myself to call them riders!) within this small 6’x6’ cube, I’m forced to elevate with. These are the more common obstacles I must face when I get into an elevator. Because inevitably, they are always there. I work in a 20 storey office building. On the 20th floor. So, it’s not like I only have a couple floors to resist the urge to flick some of these people in the back of the head… it’s 20 floors! If you are wondering why I am not taking the stairs, not only is it because 20 floors is a bit of a hike (don’t talk to me marathon runners and CN Tower climbers- I’m don’t do those things for a reason!), but also because the way the staircase is created, doesn’t easily allow me access to them without keys in and out of certain floors or going around the entire building. Essentially, the stairs are a maze, and if there is ever any kind of fire or emergency… well, I don’t know how I’ll get down. (Hmmmm maybe I should investigate this more).

Anyway, back to the people in the elevator. What’s up with their extreme crappiness? And by this, I mean things like:

• the girl who doesn’t wear her headphones exactly on her ears, but rather either in front of, or behind her ears, which forces the rest of the people in the moving cube to listen to her terrible music. Listen, even if I enjoy the song you are listening to, I don’t want to hear it blasting from your ugly checkered headphones- so turn it down, or just wear your Princess Lea inspired headgear properly.
• The man who insists on being in your space even if there’s room for him to move. Why must you intrude on my bubble? Your back is touching my bag and/or hand- move up! You have at least 6 inches in front or beside you, so utilize the space, my friend, and don’t be all up in my grill.
• The woman with the unnecessarily large (and often empty) bag who uses it as a weapon. Bag woman, I understand the in-your-bubble man may be encroaching on your space, or maybe he has in the past, but that doesn’t mean you can smack me with, what you’re referring to as, your purse. The bruises make it look like I’m a battered woman. And I most definitely am not…except by you and your weapon of internal pain- aka your purse!
• The loud conversationalists. This pair or group of people have started a conversation prior to entering the elevator and would like to continue it for the duration of time they will be inside the evil cube of movement. And while this, in itself, isn’t the problem, clearly you missed elevator etiquette school, because conversation should (mostly) be put on hold if there are other persons inside upon entering the elevator. However, if the conversation must continue, for perhaps a fear that someone else will spread the reports of Justin Bieber touring your town before you get the chance to spread the joyous news, keep the volume to a respectable level. This is public sector protocol in all forms of public transit and yes, elevators. There is no need for me to know that “Sandra smelled like a dead octopus yesterday”, because frankly, now I don’t want Sandra in this elevator at all.
• The overtly friendly passenger. We’ve all been in an elevator alone, watching the numbers on the illuminated screen change: 11, 12, 14, 15… waiting for our floor. You may check your hair and makeup in the mirrors, maybe notice the toothpaste stain on your shirt from this morning (or yesterday morning) or just stare at your shoes. Someone gets on the elevator and you exchange polite smiles. That’s as far as communication between stranger elevator co-travelers should go. But then it happens, “so, crappy weather outside isn’t it?” “yup.” “I was really looking forward to a beautiful week like we had last week. Get a garden planted or something.” -closed mouth smile- DING. “Well this is my floor, bye” -nod head-. Why should we speak to one another, just because we are, currently, in the same (potential) death cube? The answer is, we shouldn’t. So leave your small chat for someone in the office lunch room.
• The odour offenser. This person is either one of two extremes: bad body odour, or bad/too much perfume/cologne wearer. Simple solutions for this one: shower & wear deodorant and limit your sprays to 2-3 brief spritzes in the mornings (or following smoke breaks).

So, elevator riders (I relented), be aware of these unwritten, but widely accepted and preferred, elevator laws. Abide by them and if you see me in the death cube… don’t talk to me.