Cru Jones Society

Until you work in a large city surrounded by high rises, you probably don’t think about elevators all that often. However, once you get that job downtown and you’re forced to ride them all day, it preys much more heavily on your mind. You see, no longer is there a squatty guy in a chumpy uniform and a box hat pushing the buttons for you (like that nervous guy in the Beverly Willshire Hotel from Pretty Woman). Nope, we have to figure out the elevator protocols ourselves, and much to the surprise of everyone (read: no one), most people have no clue how to properly ride an elevator.

So, in the interest of you, faithful reader of the Cru Jones Society, here are four rules reminding you what and what not to do in the elevator. You’re welcome.

Pt. I: Remember common sense

Standard operating procedure dictates that those on the elevator be allowed to exit before anyone wishing to enter may do so. The reason for this is simple.

There’s much more room in a hallway or lobby than there is in an elevator car. Therefore, in the interest of avoiding congestion, let those who want out, out. Here’s a good way to keep from being a jerk. When the doors open, count out a “3 Mississippi” (in your head of course), then feel free to get in. That will have given the people getting off sufficient time to exit, leaving you free to get in and stare at the numbers like every other halfwit on the planet.

I hate when the doors open and there’s some anxious bastard ready to jump in the elevator like a lifeguard just blew the whistle ending adult swim. Ease up, bro. The elevator won’t leave without you, I promise. Just take a step back, check to make sure no one’s getting out, and then proceed to your meaningless, unfulfilling job. It’ll be there waiting for you even if you have to wait the extra three seconds before getting on the floor moving apparatus.

Pt. II: Shut the hell up.

I hate small talk. I avoid it at all costs. I’m polite with people, but I don’t want to engage people I don’t know any more than I have to. Lady E is the complete opposite. She loves small talk and makes extended conversation with everyone she encounters. Sometimes this annoys me when we’re together and I want to keep moving, but mostly I’m just grateful she’s handling the small talk, not me.

I have no interest in talking to you while we ride the elevator. If we didn’t know each other when we got on the thing, I have no plans to know you when we exit. Watch the numbers change or pretend to shuffle through your mail again. I don’t want to hear a 6 second recap of your weekend or how the lady who just got off is going down for her morning coffee and cigarette. I don’t care.

We’ll never see each other again outside of this small, metallic, moving box, and I’m okay with that. My reasoning behind not wanting to talk is twofold: 1) As is well-documented, I’m a prick; and 2) Invariably you’ll start a story that you can’t finish before you arrive at your floor forcing you to either a) end it abruptly leaving me pissed off for the rest of the day wondering how that oh-so-compelling yarn you were spinning ended (and even angrier that I’m still thinking about it hours later);or b) you’ll stand half-in and half-out of the elevator awkwardly while you tell this guy you don’t even know a story you probably regret starting in the first place.

In the interest of everyone, just keep it to yourself.

Pt. III: I’m serious, shut the hell up.

I realize how trite this is, but it needs to be said again. Talking on your cell phone in the elevator is not cool. Tell whoever you’re on your phone with to hang on until you get out of the elevator. First of all, there’s no reception in there. It’s a big metal box smack dab in the center of the building. Secondly, it’s a confined space, so regular phone talking volume sounds much, much louder and annoys everyone else. Third, you’re probably on your cell phone too much as it is.

I was in there with a guy who was talking to his secretary while he was on the way to the office. He was going to be face to face with her in 10 seconds. Just hang up, jackass.

Pt. IV: Don’t take ill-advised smoke breaks

It’s Friday night. It’s 11:00. You’re still at work. Naturally, this calls for a nice break of slow, painful suicide. I get this. But in this day and age of telecommuting, the Internet, and working on the weekend, just go home rather than riding the moving death trap back to your cubicle gulag. Whatever work you had will wait until tomorrow. God knows getting fired is better than the fate of this poor sap.

Pt. V: Little things

Here are some other things to remember that don’t warrant their own paragraphs:

• Move to one side of the car or the other when I get on. We’re not in Europe, there’s no need for us to stand so close to each other.
• If it’s already packed in there, just wait for the next one. No need to turn the elevator car into a Dockers sponsored clown car.
• If you’re a bike a messenger, a little deodorant goes a long way…
• If you’re an intern or receptionist, try a box (or maybe a cart and the freight elevator) for carrying all that ridiculous mail.
• If it’s cold/hot/raining/apocalyptic outside, I probably already know that and am not interested in your take on it.
• If you fart in a crowded elevator, everyone already knows who did it. Just own up to it.
• If you fart in a crowded elevator and laugh about it… we might just become best friends.
• Yes, these elevators only go from floors 12 to 25.
• No, I’ve never made that mistake before.
• Yes, I think you’re an idiot.

Riding the elevator is generally a painless, necessary part of city living. If you follow the rules above, you can keep it this way. If you don’t… well, I’ll be watching you. Break these easy social codes and fear the wrath of E Dagger. You never know when I’m around.

Until next time…

edagger@crujonessociety.com

*I originally wrote this essay for The 7^th Level. I’ve since mellowed out and use slightly less profanity.