I had one of those awkward elevator experiences today--what is it about elevators that lead to a heightened sense of social norms? It's like the Bermuda Triangle for all things uncannily awkward and uncomfortable.
Let's be honest, this is a safe place after all. Those thirty seconds before the elevator doors open you survey the hallway--no one around... the doors slowly slide open and YES, no one inside. It's gonna be a great ride.
Today it was just me and one other dude... He wanted ten and I wanted eight. Thank goodness I was getting off earlier right? WRONG (I yelled that in my best Gene Wilder/Willy Wanka voice). He wanted ten and I wanted eight--- I had to ride with him the WHOLE time I was on the elevator.
And then... just as any serious awkwardness was about to be avoided---WAAAHMMMO.
I get off the elevator and suddenly I say, "Thank you!" In a super chipper voice.
Thank you? Thank you, I say! What the? Why?
I think it was some sort of delayed reaction from when he asked me what floor I wanted... I'm not really sure why or how it came out of my mouth but it did. And those elevator doors slide ever so slowly closed... separating us each with our own piece of awkward.
Fail.
On the upside... it wasn't as awkward as say.... this