It’s a phenomenon that terrifies my sister and boyfriend, it’s a compulsion I do not entirely understand. Whatever the explanation, the fact remains: I like to talk to strangers in elevators. This is no life-threatening circumstance. Indeed, I don’t get many opportunities to act on this compulsion, but when I do my sister or boyfriend tend to be around. Let me explain how this works.
The best example I have is the Glenn Ellen Public Library. This particular library has a basement where library book sales take place. Thought not quite the bibliophile I aspire to be, my sister certainly fits the bill, and I frequently accompany her to various library book sales. We always look forward to the treasure we may find tucked away in the shelves. It’s after we have found these and paid for them that the Situation usually occurs. There are no stairs. The library is very busy during library book sales and all the patrons leaving and exiting the sale have to take an elevator. One time, upon boarding the elevator with our spoils, I proceeded to address my fellow book lovers. There were no introductory pleasantries, I simply asked them if they had heard about LibraryThing.com and Bookmooch.com. People clutched their bags and moved little more than their eyes. I think there were a few mumbles. I took the remaining ten seconds or so to explain the merits of both websites and exited the lift with a spring in my step. Beside me my sister hurried to her car and with great consternation asked me, “Whyyyy?” Somehow, while everyone else was squirming, the awkwardness failed to impress me.
There have been other occasions–like the time in Sweet Tomatoes when I advocated The Library Mission, and the time in the Aurora Public Library young adult section where I regaled a teenage boy with the merits of Robert Cormier novels as he studiously ignored me. Obviously, the strange behavior of mine is not limited to elevators, but they certainly pose the biggest threat. While I can get through through most social events without intentionally creating awkward moments for those around me, elevators are my weakness. I can’t quite explain it… Recently I went to the Museum of Science and Industry. At the end of the U-505 submarine exhibit there is an elevator. Rather than walking back through the entire thing, my boyfriend and I decided to take it to the next floor. By the time it arrived several other people had walked up and were waiting with us. We all climbed aboard, and I leaned against the wall and held on to the railing. It was too much. I opened my mouth; I closed it. We reached the second floor and exited. The rest of the crowd walked away and I stuck around and looked at the old war posters. Junior stood next to me and I started laughing. I looked at him and told him how hard I had to try to keep quiet because I really wanted to start talking to people. He told me he was watching me, concerned the whole time that I would do something like that. We enjoyed a good laugh at my quirkiness. I suppose I’ll keep being conscientious… most of the time. What fun would it be if I didn’t keep people on their toes?
