“Don’t Look Up!” An Elevator Story

 

The new Township Ordinance couldn’t be more succinct:

“When riding in an elevator to a floor higher than the seventh floor of any building in the township, it shall be a misdemeanor to stare at the floor numbers at the top of the elevator car as the elevator car ascends or descends the building.”

I understood the reasons.

There is a well-documented epidemic of loneliness in the country, and people in an elevator staring at the floor numbers instead of attempting small talk with the other passengers is thought to be one of the root causes.

Well, I couldn’t argue with that, but a lifetime habit of staring at numbers is hard to break.

The very day after the ordinance was passed I had an appointment in an office that happened to be on the 24^th floor of a local building. I pressed the button for the elevator, gritted my teeth, and thrust myself into the great unknown of floor numbers avoidance.

“Who enforces this ordinance?” I wondered as I entered. Was I on closed circuit TV with a big beefy guy who looks like David Harbour watching and ready to pounce if I faltered?

I slammed my eyes shut to avoid temptation but oddly enough I found myself fantasizing about the very numbers I was missing. Visions of numbers were dancing in my head like sugarplums at Christmas

“Oh, look how neatly 4 follows 3,” I marveled, “and then 4-5-6 has an such a lovely rhythm, if I could only peek at the actual numbers …”

Then I felt the elevator stop and the door open.

I opened my eyes for an instance and saw her: a young woman, very professional and well-dressed.

I’ll say it right now, I’ve never been good at small talk. Large talk either. In order to be comfortable talking to anyone I pretty much have to be engaged to them.

“Think it looks like rain?” I asked

“Haven’t heard a forecast.”

Uh-oh. Is Small Talk Failure also against the law?

“Too bad about them Eagles,” I blurted out.

“Sorry, I’m not into sports.”

Now I panicked. Is big beefy David Harbour about to be bursting into the elevator to handcuff me and haul me away?

One last try.

“I really dislike Doug and the Emu,” I said.

“OMG, I hate them too!” she shouted back.

And then she high fived me!

Outside the elevator on the 24th floor she explained:

“I’m a plainclothes officer on elevator duty, sir, and your compliance with the new ordinance was satisfactory. But your small talk was freaking great!”

What a relief! But Elevator Numbers Avoidance is still going to be a challenge.

You know, that 4-5-6 is just wonderful!

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