Elevator Small Talk Observations

Daily elevator ride

I ride in an elevator to get to my office every day now.

I must confess that I never gave riding in elevators much thought before. Elevators were simply containers that moved me from one place to another. I stepped in. I stepped out.

That was the relationship.

But as the days have passed, I’ve begun observing the passengers.

There are riders who never make eye contact. Not once. It’s as if eye contact might delay Elevator Small Talk: Observations from a Daily Ridethe ascent. They stare at the floor numbers like they personally are responsible for the building’s vertical progress. I imagine they are praying not to be noticed and simply hoping to arrive at their designated floor without participating in humanity.

Then there are the riders who make immediate eye contact and begin talking immediately.

Usually about the weather.

If it’s sunny: “It’s beautiful out there. "If it’s raining: “We sure needed this. "If it has been raining for more than two consecutive days: “Is it ever going to stop? Everything is drowning.”

The weather, I have learned, is the safest shared experience we have for elevator small talk.

And then there are the in-between riders. The ones who don’t really want to make eye contact but eventually do. They give a quick smile and offer a “good morning” or “good evening,” and then their eyes slide away as if the social requirement has been fulfilled. After that small acknowledgement, they return to their own thoughts.

Probably wondering how much longer this ride will last.

At one time or another, I have been each of these riders. This is how I know what they are thinking. Or at least what I was thinking.

I am not a natural at small talk. I have purchased books, googled the topic, and even interviewed people who appear to do it effortlessly, like they were born with conversational ease tucked into their back pockets.

Sometimes I make an intentional effort to talk to every rider, just to practice. Why not? It’s not like they can escape until the elevator reaches the correct floor.

But here is the one constant I’ve noticed:

No matter who we are in those few seconds — silent observer, weather reporter, polite acknowledger — the ride ends the same way.

The doors open.

We step out.

And someone says, “Have a good day.”

And we all say it back.

For a brief vertical stretch of time, we are strangers sharing a small metal box. And somehow, we still manage to send one another off with goodwill.

I never thought much about elevators before.

Now I do.

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