Just like you have Otis…sorry office etiquette, I reckon we could have had elevator etiquette as well. But, alas, that was not be. Mind you, this is no elevator pitch for elevator etiquette. Far from it. So, stop stairing!
Caveat Emptor( Reader Beware): These are inspired by everyday observations that you and me have been tormented with. At the risk of falling from grace, I am taking a shot at it. Because it was too much to remain boxed in. I am told that before I could say Mom(sorry Amma), the first words I uttered were ” out -of – the- box “(without the hyphens of course). After all, I had to keep up(and down) with the Joneses.
Silence is deafening. It is bizarre that you can actually hear a shin drop( and if you are lucky to own multiple chins, that as well) inside the lift. Welcome to the theatre of awkward silence where the best way to kill time is to watch the thriller movie running( read looking at the floor numbers on the digital display). You don’t have to have anything to do with product or industrial design but the intense gaze at the elevator ceiling fan( where one exists) to avoid eye contact with others in protein form(probably lesser mortals) is moonshot thinking of a different level.
And it is not as if silence is your only companion. You also get the good samaritan who wants to break this quite eerie earth with questions like ” going up? “, to which a polite, poker faced response could only be ” no sir, I am here just for the ambience“.
I am sure you also have been victims of the SSIS– no, it has nothing to do with Sam Altman or another Open AI platform- it means Smartphone Sudden Interest Syndrome. Where suddenly everyone finds their smartphone incredibly fascinating. And even with no wifi signal, pretend to send WhatsApp messages. Especially when you spot the neighbor whom you have been trying to avoid judiciously. I wonder what makes them tick or double tick!
You are also fortunate to spot the video game players who think the elevator buttons are their console in disguise and they keep punching the ‘ door close ‘ button as if they are playing Mortal Kombat. Who is to console the rest of the mute citizenry inside the box? One really feels buttonholed. Dr Cialdini, you did not say anything about forceful persuasion in your classic book The Psychology of Persuasion. I expected better from you.
Believe it or not, as if the office was not enough, hierarchy has a role to play here as well. Like the person who stands in the corner like they’re the CEO of the elevator(spoiler alert: no, they are not). Imagine their visiting card saying ” CEO: Elevator Corner “- EC isn’t it? Or worse, when they are driving and they are asked ” can you give me a lift “? . Then there is the part time intern-the one who holds the door for everyone, earning the unofficial title of “Elevator MVP.” And last but not the least the person who faces the wall of the elevator not the door- rebel with or without a cause? Not wanting to have his backs to the wall? The jury is still out on this…
There is more drama in this hydraulic amphitheatre: like the elevator philosophers who sigh as soon as they get in as if they are carrying the weight of the entire world on their shoulders and have to not only deliver it to level 34 but get an acknowledgement and stamp as well.
One should not fail to mention about the talkative extroverts– who use the elevator as a networking event:- perfect for life stories, business pitches, and unsolicited advice. Yes, the same guys who have their visiting card on velcro for anyone one to peel off.
And there is this wonderful breed of escape artists who immediately have to make a call as soon as the elevator door opens failing which Tim Cook will have to close down Apple. And the other type who will bolt out of the elevator as if he is the main cast from Fast & Furious, (and beat Usain Bolt at his own game) even though he is just getting off on the mezzanine floor. Do you think they should get their exit strategy right? VCs are you smelling an opportunity here?
I bet you have seen the load management experts as well as you go up and down like over disciplined pedestrians– the ones who make the complex calculation of how many people can fit in; who will lie saying ” I will catch the next one ” when they see its too crowded or the one who initiates the sardine-can shuffle and encourages others that everyone can be squeezed in.
There is nothing called a free lunch. You bet. Nowhere does it play its part than inside the lift. The breed of phantom farters. Hell bent on leaving a legacy. They exit, but their aura (that ambush your olfactories) linger. Who nose what they had for lunch? And once the doors close, you are battling that and making a silent judgement of other people’s lunch choices, not to mention you trying to suppress the quiet awkward stomach growl. So much responsibility to handle in 57 seconds. You wish you were gone in 60. Breathtaking stuff! Literally at that.
And thats exactly the reason why we have this community of cologne enthusiasts. As soon as they enter, you know that all the perfume shops in the Champs Elysees would have had an inventory shortage issue recently. And you are gasping for air and wanting to take the next flight into Cologne. But, what to do- Shenghen Visas are not easy to come by.
And there are these silent sufferers. Cramped in a crowded lift, breathing into someone’s armpit, but refusing to complain. They have been told that torture builds character. And if you were to be in Daryaganj, Delhi, they would have reminded you ” Yeh Tho Arm Baath Hain “.
It will be remiss of me not to mention about the entitled breed in this space. The one who saunders in as if her family owned and runs Otis Elevator Company, Schindler Elevator Corporation, KONE, ThyssenKrupp Elevator, Fujitec, Hyundai Elevator, Mitsubishi Electric, Hitachi, and Johnson Lifts combined. So, when you help her get in by keeping the door open(pressing only the right buttons), the dismissive air of indifference is a sight to behold. Words like Thank you are TWO sub-standard for her to bark out. Leaving you with the feeling that a KONE…I mean con job was better.
You don’t have to be a practicing psychologist to conclude that elevators are the microcosm of human behavior. Where strangers come together to silently judge each other’s life choices( yes the same jury who was out, they have come right back in, after all judging others is a full time occupation)- a destination probably invented by a hair brained scientist wanting to conduct a social experiment in human awkwardness.
Sorry, got to go…” the lift has come “(sometimes, because of all that happens inside it, this does sound like an achievement worthy of the Nobel)- Adnan Sami, are you listening? Mujhko bhi tho...