Alternate Title: I’m Sorry This Post Is So Fucking Lame, But This Is Driving Me Out Of My Goddamn Mind
Or: Asshattery & My Relationship With Elevators
Living in Chicago has brought elevators to the forefront of my life. They pretty much have a starring role nowadays, in fact. We live on the 34th floor of our building and I work on the 17th floor of another building, so I take the elevator multiple times a day, every day of my life, and my knees thank sweet baby Jesus that I am not trudging up and down and can you imagine the hot sweaty mess I’d be if I had to take the stairs?
So now that I’m an Elevator Expert and stuff, I’ve come to realize that there’s a very important set of unspoken rules and courtesies one should follow if one wishes to be known as something other than That Asshole Who Was An Asshole On The Elevator. Or if one doesn’t want to be jabbed in the neck with my deodorant stick. Allow me to elaborate.
1) The call button is not to be touched unless you are absolutely 100% certain that you are ready to board the elevator. Don’t waste my time stopping the elevator on your floor if you don’t plan to get on and get going.
2) Once boarded, please observe a 12-inch perimeter, or as much space between yourself and the other people riding as possible. A crowded elevator lends itself to understandably tighter quarters, but why you gotta be all up in mah grill?? (says the whitest and least confrontational person everrrrr).
3) When getting on the elevator, do a courtesy sweep to make sure no one else is trying to make it before the doors close. Letting them close on someone who’s got their hands full of groceries or a baby or their dog, or even someone who has none of those things (LIKE WHEN ALL I WANT IS TO GET HOME AND I MISS THE GODDAMN ELEVATOR BECAUSE SOME ASSHOLE LETS THE DOORS CLOSE ON ME) is douchey. At least look me in the face while you let the doors close from two feet away; don’t pretend you don’t see me flailing in desperation. Grrr.
While these simple rules may seem like common sense, let me assure you they are overlooked, forgotten, or go otherwise unheeded more frequently than you can imagine. And then I throw a tantrum in my head and write passive aggressive posts on my blog. So there.