I estimate that I’m in an elevator about four minutes a day, five days a week. That’s roughly 20 minutes a week and over an hour a month.
That means I spend 16 hours a year standing in an elevator. Which is the lamest thing I’ve learned about myself in a long time.
This utter waste of time has, however, qualified me to provide several astute observations about how people behave in elevators. Here’s a rundown of the most common personalities I’ve identified:
The Recluse: Darts into elevator while staring at the floor. Sulks in the back, and then exits in similar stealthy fashion. May be found texting during travel and listening to iPod.
The Host: Greets everyone gregariously and demands to push the button for their floor. Makes random comments to no one in particular that others must politely smile at while feeling entirely awkward. Tells everyone to have a good day. If it’s Friday, everyone receives wishes for a good weekend.
The Elitist: Enters on the phone and doesn’t use an inside voice. Makes a show of pressing the button for her floor, as if it’s a tough decision, before resuming cell phone conversation and avoiding eye contact. Often found carrying expensive purse and Starbucks. Clearly the Alpha of the group.
The Misfit: “One of these things is not like the others.” Everyday it’s someone new, but there’s always one person who just doesn’t seem to fit in with everyone else. Maybe it’s the girl who’s dressed in 5 inch heels and stage make up. Or the person who decided that shorts are now business-casual.
At least it’s an interesting waste of time.