It’s Monday and I’m back at work. I’m a little gun-shy after Miss Blue Eyes made me feel like a pervert. But I’m still committed to this.
I’m not going to describe my actual work because it’ll probably sound boring and then you’ll think I’m a hypocrite when I said everyone else is boring.
The key difference here is that I know my job sounds boring to most people (even though I actually enjoy it sometimes) so I don’t go around talking about it all day long. This is a skill that is highly underappreciated in our society called “gauging your audience’s interest.” If more people stopped talking for a second (or Tweeting, etc.) and looked up to gauge their audience’s interest
, they’d notice that nobody cares about their big plans to watch the World Cup match or whether their friend Susan is really fake. In fact, if people were five percent better at responding to a lack of interest in what they’re saying, productivity in the office place would increase by eighty-three percent. I made up those numbers but you get the point: NOBODY CARES ABOUT WHAT YOU ARE SAYING!
So, a new rule for the Project: no blogging about other trivial shit like my views on “So You Think You Can Dance.” Just gonna write about my experiences talking to strangers.
But I do need to give you a little info on where I work. It’s a high rise on Constellation in Century City. Every day I take an escalator from the garage to the lobby level then an elevator to the nineteenth floor. I probably go up the elevator with many of the same people every day but I never knew it because frankly I never really paid attention to who’s standing next to me in the elevator. Except this one really beautiful girl who gets off at some floor above mine.
The old me liked elevators because most people obey a certain protocol of willful ignoring. No one says anything because no one wants to talk to people in an elevator. It’s peaceful. I wish someone would change the protocol that says when you pass a co-worker walking the opposite direction in the hallway you have to say “hi.” It’s a stupid custom. It’s just a waste of time and doesn’t accomplish anything. Do you think Vulcans say hi to each other when they walk past each other on their space ships? It’s not logical. For some reason, elevators went the other way from hallways and people know to keep their mouths shut in elevators. Sometimes you get a chatty UPS guy or Water Delivery Man who addresses the whole elevator with a “How’s everyone doing today?” like he’s going to pass around a hat like a homeless guy on a New York subway, but nine times out of ten it’s quiet.
At least, that’s how I felt last week. Now that I’m a people person, I look for any and all opportunities to talk to strangers and this morning was looking like my lucky day. Hot elevator girl was in the same car as me. Now all I had to do was say something.
But I still haven’t figured out how to talk to pretty girls without being creepy. I waited for the three other people to get off and I couldn’t believe how lucky things worked out that it was just me and her for the next few seconds.
I had to say something quickly. By the way, as an aside, isn’t it weird how people in elevators automatically move to even out the empty space when someone gets off? Totally reflexive behavior but it always happens.
Anyway, so I’ve got about nine second before it goes to my floor and I’m scrambling for something to say. Don’t compliment her eyes. I know that for sure. Hair? Outfit? Shoes? Starting to sound like I’m gay.
Be more observant! When is she doing that I can notice and compliment?! Nothing! She’s just standing there.
Fifteen… sixteen… seventeen…
Backup plan! Small talk! The weather? It’s been kind of cool for July…
The door opened and I got out.
Totally chickened out. Didn’t say anything.
I think I was thrown by the whole trying-to-pick-her-up assumption. If I could get past that and just treat her as a person, not a hot girl, I could probably come up with something to say.
I don’t know. Maybe I should start off more slowly. Like not hot girls. I need to get some successes under my belt or I know I’m going to get disillusioned and give up.
Gotta go back to work. My project manager Kyle is hovering.