Readers I implore you to assist me in rubbing out an annoying stain on the fabric of society…. No I am not talking about the latest bullshit to spew from Ahmadi'maduchebag's mouth…but rather something that just as annoying…Elevator small talk.
Seriously what was the point of the small talk? Neither party ever conveys anything remotely relevant to each other. Why do people feel compelled to chat strangers up while occupying the same cramped space? Just because you are sharing a moving box doesn't mean you have to engage each other in pointless conversation.
If you don't actually know each other on enough of a substantive level to have a meaningful conversation, why bother with pleasantries? Holding these generic weekend and weather-related discussions is really more of a slap to the face than anything else. You may as well be saying "I have no idea who the fuck you are, nor do I care, but I better at least prove I possess basic communication skills."
What I really want to do is I try to make my elevator conversations as inappropriate and uncomfortable for other people as possible. You know incorporate one or more of the following into my small talk responses: gambling losses, drug use, radical politics, petty crime, false, malicious rumors about businesses in the building, major crimes, multiple sexual partners, my connections to the mafia, and gangta rap music.
Of couse I bend to the rules of what is socially acceptable behavior and endure the standard lame comments about the weather and the soccer mom wanting to show me pictures of little Johnny at his last indoor soccer match on her digital photo key chain. Seriously I think it would be less awkward if the couple next to me just started fucking right there in he elevator.
At this point you've become blind because your eyes have rolled straight through the top of your head and are doing time on the ceiling of the elevator. "Seems you've got some blood gushing out of your ocular cavities there, how's that working out for you?"
You contemplate various methods of shattering your ear drums but sadly come to the conclusion that even the destruction of 2/5 of your senses still won't stop little Johnny from playing soccer again that weekend, and every weekend until he quits in high school, starts smoking weed, impregnates his girlfriend after the prom and flunks out of college, but still gets hooked up with a job, and karma plays it cruel joke on him as he is tortured with the same bullshit conversations.
Help stop the madness. Slowly but surely you can help destroy mindless elevator chit-chat and get back to purposefully staring at the digital floor readout, waiting to make your great escape. If you see someone you don't know getting on the elevator, do us all a favor and shut the fuck up.