I've blogged before about my hatred for awkward moments. I mean, who doesn't hate them, right?
But you know what the worst kind of awkward moments are? Those that take place in an elevator. Because there's nowhere to go.
Case in point. Today at work, I was walking around with a gentleman I had just met, interviewing him for a story. We got in the elevator and suddenly we were trapped in a blanket of putrid stench. Yes. Someone had found the elevator a perfectly acceptable place to drop a bomb (for lack of a better term.)
We both noticed it. I mean, how could you not? It was the kind of smell that takes your breath away. But neither one of us wanted to say anything. So I started babbbling to diffuse the situation. Asking stupid questions. Four floors felt like an eternity. Awkwardddd.
How about the person I like to call "The Singer." The guy/gal who was has big dreams of being the next Whitney Houston/Usher (first two names that popped in my head), so they sing wherever anyone will hear them. What do I say to said singer? "Wow, you're really good. Why don't you have a record deal?" Or "You should try out for American Idol!" Please tell me this happens to someone else. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?
Or the person that really wants to be your friend. I'm all about being friendly, but do I really need to know that your mom just had surgery for her urinary incontinence and you, yourself, believe you are developing the same issue?
Or the person with no regard for your personal bubble. The one that has plenty of room in their area of the elevator, but needs to somehow step into your space.
Or the person with BO that could gag a rat. The kind that smells like onions...and a bad Italian hoagie.
Next time you're in an elevator...be on the lookout for these people. They're everywhere.