Why I Should Just Take the Stairs
This morning I was on the elevator, waiting for the doors to shut, when out of the corner of my eye I saw someone approaching. I immediately buried my head in my purse like I was struggling to find something and waited for the doors to close, seemingly oblivious to this unfortunate soul who missed the elevator by mere seconds. This is pretty par for the course.
Waiting is by far my least favorite thing in the world, followed closely by cars who stay in a lane they KNOW is closing up ahead so they can cut everyone off at the last minute and avoid waiting themselves. This makes my wait even longer and does wonders for my road rage.
The reason I avoid the whole pretend show about trying to hold the elevator for someone is for no better reason than that I’m incredibly impatient. Who the hell do I think I am, playing God w/ the elevator? It’s really not that serious, being a few seconds late, right? It’s only that, from my experience, these few seconds are never just a few seconds. Because once the elevator doors are closing and someone barges their way on, the doors open and the timer starts fresh. The elevators in my building take forever to close in the first place. So when someone weasels their way in at the last minute and the doors are open for another minute or two, several more people get on, pushing floors beneath mine and making the trip up to my floor even longer. Now my actions are justified, right?
Okay, it’s a terrible habit. It’s seriously one of my new years resolutions; not to be more patient in general, but to be more patient regarding elevators. Hey, I’ve gotta start somewhere. I figure if I can work patience into several areas of my life, it will slowly creep in everywhere until it’s just the kind of person I am.
My elevator etiquette could use some revamping in the new year. It should probably include showing benevolence to people who hop on and press the second floor. I have a rude little tick of rolling my eyes, or giving them a look of disgust, or making a loud sigh of disbelief; usually it’s all three.
I take comfort in knowing that I’m not alone in this. I was on the elevator this morning with two other people. Two other people that would rather fake interest in the elevator TV, showing the same boring advertisements that they show every other day, than try and hold the door for someone. No one is interested in those TV’s. At least my (fake) struggle to find something in my purse was convincing.
Waiting is by far my least favorite thing in the world, followed closely by cars who stay in a lane they KNOW is closing up ahead so they can cut everyone off at the last minute and avoid waiting themselves. This makes my wait even longer and does wonders for my road rage.
The reason I avoid the whole pretend show about trying to hold the elevator for someone is for no better reason than that I’m incredibly impatient. Who the hell do I think I am, playing God w/ the elevator? It’s really not that serious, being a few seconds late, right? It’s only that, from my experience, these few seconds are never just a few seconds. Because once the elevator doors are closing and someone barges their way on, the doors open and the timer starts fresh. The elevators in my building take forever to close in the first place. So when someone weasels their way in at the last minute and the doors are open for another minute or two, several more people get on, pushing floors beneath mine and making the trip up to my floor even longer. Now my actions are justified, right?
Okay, it’s a terrible habit. It’s seriously one of my new years resolutions; not to be more patient in general, but to be more patient regarding elevators. Hey, I’ve gotta start somewhere. I figure if I can work patience into several areas of my life, it will slowly creep in everywhere until it’s just the kind of person I am.
My elevator etiquette could use some revamping in the new year. It should probably include showing benevolence to people who hop on and press the second floor. I have a rude little tick of rolling my eyes, or giving them a look of disgust, or making a loud sigh of disbelief; usually it’s all three.
I take comfort in knowing that I’m not alone in this. I was on the elevator this morning with two other people. Two other people that would rather fake interest in the elevator TV, showing the same boring advertisements that they show every other day, than try and hold the door for someone. No one is interested in those TV’s. At least my (fake) struggle to find something in my purse was convincing.
Comments
I'm a terrible person.
I'm pretty bad about those things too though, I never hold the door and I creep allll the way up to the car in front of me so no one can get in like that!
@Stephanie: I'm all about tailgating to prevent those cars from creeping in. I don't see this habit changing anytime soon.