I’ve lived in an apartment building for four years now (minus a year). This is more than enough time to come across some interesting characters, such as the lady who chirps while walking down the hall, or the loud guy who wants to be everyone’s friend. But it’s also a lot of time to get to know certain groups of people. One of my most hated groups of people are the elevator complainers.
For some people, one elevator is never enough. Even if they press the button and the elevator door opens right away these people will still complain to those around about the other elevator being on service. If you get stuck waiting for the elevator with these people around be sure to stand clear.
These people become an interesting mix of passive aggressive and aggressive. They are aggressive against the elevator itself, against the fact that sometimes people are moving in or out, and/or against the property owners. They will complain aloud to anyone else waiting while staring up at the floor indicator lights, sighing audibly for every floor where the elevator pauses. When the doors open and people deboard these people become passive-aggressive toward the passengers who have contributed to the elevator’s delay. “Finally,” you might hear someone exclaim; or perhaps they ask the question, “where did you go, Toronto?”
Frankly, it’s rude, inconsiderate, and juvenile.
And you know what else? These people are usually women.
Today I nearly suggested to a woman that she take the stairs, but I avoided fuelling the fire. The last thing I wanted to hear about was how she lived on the 16th floor, has a back injury, needs to get dinner on, has to leave 5 minutes earlier in the morning to account for potential elevator delays, etc. But I do really wish there was some way to have a little patience, and to appreciate the fact that we have this mechanical device to lift us skyward saving our own personal energy.
Maybe I just expect too little from our world.