Makin’ forced painful small talk while you’re goin’ dowwwwwwn.
I hate that moment in the elevator when you realize you’ve got a talker. They breathe heavily, or shift their weight and groan. Something to catch your attention. A little non-verbal heads up that the inanity is about to come.
“Jeez what a day.”
I could not begin to care less.
In fact, I’m not sure how I would go about lessening my level of care about your day. I’m positive that even if I were to take a blunt object, like say, your slightly too large forehead, and pummeled myself senseless with it, my new catatonic state would not even come close to harboring a comparable level of care to the nano-scale amount I presently posess.
But I don’t ever say that. That would most definitely be rude. Usually I do one of those half laughs that
sound somewhere between a fart and a cough. Then I roll my eyes like I know what they’re talking about.
Yeah, seriously, what a day. We’re comrades in arms together fighting against the drudgery of our daily lives, thank you for that ray of sunshine letting me know that I’m not alone. I will NOT lose seventy pounds and fit out the minuscule opening my window makes. It will be alright.
Then you stand quiet as the metal box of uncomfortable silence rises into the air. You don’t say anything because there isn’t anything to say, and if there was you’ve got what? Ten seconds to say it in? What on earth do they hope to accomplish in this period of time? The first of a series of Dickensian mini-conversations through which we will slowly and regularly get to know each other? In episode 32 we’ll quickly share the photographs in our wallets. Episode 108 will be the bullet pointed retelling of the times we lost our virginities.
- Got walked in on.
- Shameful. So shameful.
Before you know it, it’s time to say good-bye.
And you actually have to say it.
“Have a good day!”
“See ya around.”
I wish just once someone would make idle pointless chit chat with me in the elevator and then get off on their floor, turn around and say to me, “Tonight, when the moon is high, a silver hawk will land at your window. Grasped in its ethereal talon will be the key to a magical kingdom.”
Because I’m convinced the entire twelfth floor of my building is full of gypsies, and they can do shit like that.