Elevator

I have long waited for the day where I can have that moment in an elevator where I just say or do something that is completely out of the norm (aside from marveling at the steelwork, or watching the numbers light up above the doors as I go up floor by floor)--the moment that catches everyone else in the elevator off-guard and throws them into a tizzy-ish state, or makes them feel like schmucks for not being sociable and even saying so much as a "hello" while sharing the same confined airspace with strangers for 15 seconds (although, I never really want to spark up a conversation with anyone I’m not not genuinely interested in, so this whole scenario really is a catch-22 for me). Well, some older lady totally stole my moment in a whole foods parking garage/elevator.

There were four or five of us boarding the steel box, one of which being this fun-looking (note, not funny-looking, although, her knit cap and pink lipstick made me chuckle a little inside) older woman, whose name, I’ll guess, was "Gertie." I would say she was in her early to mid-seventies (mind you, my age and name approximations are about as good as my distance and length measuring without a ruler or tape measure, or my ability to decipher which side of the street is south/north/east/or west when the sun is not up or I am without my compass that I don't own). She was talking outside of the elevator, which, I later realized, was to no one in particular, just those of us who were in earshot. I have no clue what she was talking about, because I didn't think she was directing anything to me in particular. And because, I live in my own little world most of the time and tune everyone else out....or because I was on the lookout for my would-be significant other, who I imagine I would just happen to run into one day in a whole foods parking lot (I hear the alias and never been kissed hottie Michael Vartan met his fiancé in a whole foods parking lot, and the rest will be Hollywood happily-almost-ever-after history for them). Anyway...

The doors opened and we all took our respective places within the elevator, careful not to stand anywhere near each other or make eye contact. "Gertie" just kept on talking, which is when I realized, it was directed at no one in particular. And then, right there, she called each and every one of us out, mid-sentence. "Operation: elevator jackass" had commenced, although, shamefully, it was not by my doing. And as she continued her rant, without missing a beat, she went into, "and of course we all become anti-social in an elevator, which makes no sense. 'Let's not say anything and sit in our own quietness, two feet from each other.' ridiculous really...."

I initially was looking down as she began spouting this geniosity, and then quickly looked up at her when I realized what was happening, sort of with a, "how dare you!" look, mixed with an "exactly!" and a slightly solemn, "this is what my future looks like, in a knit cap and hot pink lipstick." I chuckled, and heard other people smile (you know, the kind of smile that is accompanied by a short, small puff of air that comes out of the nose, sort of signaling the beginning of amusement, but an action that is very non-committal and can quickly be turned into a fake cough or heavy sigh in case no one else thinks the moment is funny, thereby averting being the lone laugher). I wanted to say something, but that would have sounded forced, like I was only lending something to the conversation because she had brought up the fact that I was being anti-social and, effectively, stupid. "Silly, really..." she continued, "I don't understand why people don't acknowledge each other in an elevator, they just look at the lights or at their own stupid shoes," or something to that effect. I was in a state of shock, so I may not have been hearing what was really being said.

Ding. We reached the ground level of the store. It was only one floor we had to climb, it took all of about 7.2 seconds, but it felt like an eternity. The doors opened and filled the elevator with a sense of relief, and everyone shuffled out quickly, as I just stood there, watching the lady waddle out, shaking her head in disappointment, as the sorry saps she shared only a few seconds in the elevator with left without saying a word. I just stood there, unable to move and amazed at what had just happened. As the doors began to close, I snapped out of my daze and hit the button to open the doors again and slowly walked out, feeling more than a bit defeated.

There it was, and there it went. My moment, almost staring me in the face, future almost meeting present....I’ll say "almost" because "Gertie" did not go the extra length of spontaneously throwing her arms around a stranger and whispering, "I’m just so happy you're here," as she nestled her head into their shoulder, as I imagine I would do. But had she done that, I’m pretty sure it would have been game over for the mystery of the life that lies before me. And that would have been the exact future I would have not wanted to meet at a whole foods...I can't stand lipstick.