A little self-reflection
Or maybe a little self-awareness?
At my place of employment, we have a bank of five elevators that get all us little minions to and from the multitude of floors in our fabulous office building.
Every day I ride in these elevators, and it gives me time to notice some stuff.
Like the fact that the interior of the elevator cars is mirrored. Yup, to a high polish. What this means is each person’s visage is clearly reflected back into the car.
Meaning…if you are standing in the back surreptitiously picking your nose, you are not surreptitious at ALL. We all have to just look forward to see what you are doing back there. You aren’t hiding.
Most people get in there and lock their eyes on the television screen scrolling headline news. You know, the ol’ don’t make eye contact elevator rule.
I sometimes watch the headline news, and have become a repository for useless trivial information that I can whip out at random times to the utter disinterest of The Good Man.
But lately I’ve been watching the show in the reflected doors. People really are odd little creatures.
I’ve caught *numerous* male colleagues checking out the backsides of the comely young ladies who work here. And who can blame them, really?
I’ve also caught quite a few roll eyes or scowls as someone apparently unliked gets on the car.
There are the salespeople on the elevator who try to read the names on people’s badges, I guess perpetually making a sales contact list.
I’ve witnessed some personal grooming that is best left for a private moment.
On Friday, as I got on the elevator and found my spot, I saw the lady to my side and a step back look my Friday casual outfit up and down, roll her eyes, then put her hand to her stomach and smooth it down, as though to assure herself that her midsection was smaller and flatter than mine. It was, she has nothing to worry about.
Evidently people seem to go through life believing, “If I can’t see you, you can’t see me.” Except when your every move is reflected back.
Believe me, I’m all too aware of this little feature of the elevator and make sure to keep my hands away from my nose, my errant underwear or my boiling zit.
I kinda want to put up a sign that says, “Objects in mirror may be you.”
PS Yes, I really did take an iPhone photo in my elevator at work…….don’t think that wasn’t odd to explain to the guy who got on two floors down.
PPS Yes, I’m wearing my kicking Fat Babies to work today. Saaaalute! Since Fat Babies are one of the highest searched keywords on my blog, I figured I’d give them another plug.
