idle chatter

You never really think about your personal space until you are jammed into an elevator with 20 strangers. Then a strange thing happens - you get a little panicky. Your heart starts beating a little faster, your brow becomes a little sweatier, and you are certainly not comfortable. Why does this happen? It's a purely instinctive response - someone entering your space is assumed to be threatening. No matter how well styled their suits, how polished their shoes. Wardrobe is something that you will no doubt acknowledge in this situation. Why?

Well because you can't, G-d forbid, look anyone in the eye. Preposterous. That's just too confrontational - like having a staring contest with an angry dog, it's just not done. Say a polite hello? Craziness. Glance in the mirrors which are most likely surrounding you and you are vain. Not too mention you could be caught staring at another person's reflection, an aforementioned faux paux. Stare at the ground and you are lacking confidence. It really is a no-win situation.

Then there's etiquette - when someone behind you needs to get out, do you do the squeeze or the full move out? There is always some small fear that the full move out will leave me stuck on a different floor. So I just squeeze.

Tomorrow I will just smile at everyone like an escaped mental patient, staring everyone in the face until they acknowledge my craziness. What, it's better than staring at the floor for 30 seconds.