Elevating My Frustration

Please welcome new Phillyist author Joe Ross who, in his following inaugural post, is giving our manners maven a run for her money. Joe likes pirate mini golf and The Princess Bride, and has plans to ultimately rid the planet of zombies once and for all. The old-fashioned, slow-moving zombies, that is.

This morning I walked to work in the rain, sans umbrella (it was broken). I pressed the "10" and watched the door close, hoping that the morning workload would be slow so I could keep doing research for my first Phillyist article.

As it turns out, the morning workload was terrible and I was pushed into posting an alternate first article by someone I have never met, someone who works on my floor, in Accounts Payable, or Receivable, or some such "-able"... What catalyzed my last-minute change of subject?

An elevator kamikaze.

That's right, an elevator kamikaze. The phrase is defined in Joe Ross' Dictionary of Descriptive Phrases for People Who Annoy Him On a Daily Basis (I'm working on shortening the title before I look for a publisher) as meaning "one whom, on seeing the elevator door open in front of them, presses forward into the elevator car with blatant disregard for the safety of any who may be attempting to exit said elevator car, often with their head leaned forward in a half bull-rushing, half zombie pose".

We have all been near-victims of these rude people with no sense of even the most obvious etiquette, but I have noticed a recent rise in incidents. This afternoon, on my way down for lunch, with the morning's kamikaze still fresh in my mind, I was nearly struck again. A portly woman of about 35 or 40 years of age attempted, I think, to walk directly through my physical body, as if I were a ghost. Ignoring that this attempt defies all well-documented and universally accepted laws of physics, I stood resolutely right where I had been when the doors first opened.

I allowed her to position herself obliviously in the corner and press the button for her floor before I turned around and gave her the dumbest smile I possibly could. So dumb, in fact, that I think that she might have gotten the point.

I was, until recently, still under the impression that the exiting elevator patron has the right of way.

So, I ask everyone, with all due respect and kindness, please allow those departing an elevator car the slightest chance in hell of escaping before you trample them in your desperation to begin your day. Especially if they look like they may have walked in the pouring rain from Broad and Spring Garden to Market Street.

Image from this site.