On the Awkwardness of Lifts

Consider the lift. We seldom do! Once the sole preserve of the upper classes, staffed by expertly trained button pressers in red gilded uniforms whose job it was to whisk the rich and/or famous up to five star hotel rooms, the elevator is now an indispensable, unavoidable component of the modern cultural machine.

The elevator was invented by Otis Persons VIII in the fin-du-siecle, his dream being one of a marvellous mechanical stairway, whizzing the industrious denizens of the Big Apple up and down the towering skyscrapers that would come to dominate that booming metropolis. As time went by, the Otis expanded into every nook and most crannies of western society. Where big buildings were built, Otides would be installed. When Canary Wharf was built c.1990, the lift became vital for the upwardly mobile when they wished to mobilise upwards

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Otis Persons VIII

Today's point'n'click push-button technology enables and empowers even the lowliest citizen. Why, this blog itself, being written from the thirteenth floor of the iconic Dalehead, is founded on the lift. Without our friend Otis we would all be too tired and would likely just half-finish a wank and nod off.

But humanity's newfound verticality comes at a price. That price is the risk – and this risk is high – that one will find oneself in a small room (with no seating) with a near-perfect stranger for a period of a minute or more. These situations are frequently uncomfortable, sometimes downright awkward. The period of time spent in a lift is never long enough to necessitate conversation, but never short enough to excuse forgoing it entirely.

Compare and contrast this to the understood rules of a crowded bus journey; two adjacent passengers anticipate a long ride, so the potential benefits of sparking up some banter are outweighed by the almost inevitable risk of a prolonged silence when they have run out of things to say, and are left idle at the bow of a conversation that has run aground without the words to float it. This allows both parties to share a halfway comfortable silence.

At the other extreme, encounters of only a few seconds (e.g. when buying a newspaper) are much easier – if one party should choose to crack a joke or make some other remark, they have an insurance policy. Should the receiver not take it well, the speaker has only to endure their disdain for a very brief period.

Here are some things you can do to break or endure an elevator silence:

• Sigh loudly and longly. All the time you are sighing, you are excusing yourself from having to say anything. If possible, start a 'what a day!' sigh as the doors close and sustain until the doors open again. Nod and leave.

• Raise eyebrows at your companion and breathe in through your teeth while grinning. This will endear you to them.

• Have a coughing fit

• Have a laughing fit

• Have a seizure

• Make polite conversation. Like a normal human.

• Pass wind. If possible, sustain for duration.

• See how long you can look at their eyes before they look at your eyes. Keep a score in your head. Deduct points should you actually make direct eye contact.

• Eat. If you don't have any food, pretend. Offer them some.

• Stand in the corner, facing the corner. This technique is virtually foolproof.

• If you are a child or a coward, the phantom phone call is an option.

• Wait it out until just before the doors open, then tell them how much you've enjoyed your time together and promise to stay in touch.

Good luck!