An elevator is probably one of the places where you are highly likely to encounter an interesting mix of otherwise normal people, who exhibit claustrophobia-induced behavioral anomalies. Next time when you are in one, closely (and discreetly!!) observe the Johns, Janes and Does who walk in and out, and you will know what I mean.
The Pillars, immediately turns around to face the door and then keeps looking up (or down depending on whichever direction the elevator is moving), just in case the entire mechanism may decide to standstill if they took their eyes off those imaginary treadles.
Then there are the Narcissists – men can’t stop preening their hair and women can’t stop pursing their lips - completely oblivious of their fellow travelers (like me) who are trying their best not to stare.
The Frequency Jammers, walks in shouting, keeps shouting and leaves shouting, unmindful to the poor little eardrums around them that are on the verge of rupture.
The Aristocrats have their eyes and fingers glued to their phones and treats you like the elevator lady - “5 please!!” – mostly no thank-you follows.
The Socializers give you direct eye contacts, polite smiles or good-day greetings – small gestures, but enough to make your day. Lifts my spirits if I am on my way to that meeting where there are 10 mouths - one talks and the rest yawns.
And then there is me, The Onlooker.
So what are you?
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