How hard is it to start a conversation?
By Preet Anand
Imagine this scenario: I walk back from class alone and move toward the elevator in the dorm. Upon reaching it, I notice two people are already waiting there, and the elevator button has been pushed. Now what do I do? All three of us watch the elevator move floors while secretly hoping for it to quicken so the awkwardness can end. The elevator arrives, and we step in politely. Ironically though, I wait for each person to get in individually; that way I don't have to move around them. I want to just stick to my space.
I stare at the door closing in an effort to avoid eye contact, but then the person to my left pushes the button for his floor, at which point I think, "Great, I forgot to press my floor." Another awkward situation is imminent. I squeeze around the guy and practically force him into the wall in an effort to push the button for my floor. At least I didn't have to ask. As the door shuts, the girl on my right asks the guy, "Can you hit floor four, please?" Oh! She's brave.
The elevator has started going up, and we all do absolutely nothing. One stares at the floor, I hum a tune to myself and the girl chuckles about a sign in the elevator. All of us are tracing the floors' patterns to avoid looking at anything near each other. None of us want to be the loser who says something to which nobody responds, so we keep watching the floors change.
The guy steps off to his floor without a look back. The door closes, and we head up again. Now, it's at the girl's floor. She walks out the door, but then she does something completely preposterous. She says goodbye! Am I supposed to say goodbye back? While I flounder for words, the door closes.
What motivates situations like this? Elevator odd-talk is the epitome of social awkwardness. There are two reasons why we can't string words together to avoid the abyss of uncomfortable silence.
The first reason is more attuned to something prevalent in English papers, dealing with themes and such. When people come back to their dorm, they're trying to get away from the stresses and obligations of life. Let's say school represents one universe and the dorm represents another. The elevator ride is the wormhole between those two universes. It's like a river that people cross and need to have it steady to make it all the way. People may not talk because they are absorbed in thoughts during the elevator ride. But this argument is only persuasive if elevator rides taken are toward the apartment at the end of the day, which isn't always the case.
It's more likely that the reason people have trouble in the elevator is a result of something that affects us everyday -- something I like to call the "conversation crunch." It's difficult to start conversations.
Imagine how much harder it is now in the elevator. It's not simply two seconds that you can pass by someone without a problem. But, at the same time, it's not long enough to figure out how to strike up a conversation. At best, you'll be able to name off some quick current events, such as the recent e-mail sent by President Paul Locatelli, S.J., that called for limiting alcohol abuse, or the happenings of last Friday, when three students were sent to the hospital for alcohol-related illnesses. Remember, it only takes two of you to have a conversation. The others will gradually join in, so mention something that is common between the two of you. We need something to get everyone in the elevator out of this grey area of social exposure.
And if you really struggle in this elevator limbo, just mention this article, and I'm sure you'll spark something.
Preet Anand is an undeclared freshman.