He walked in with his phone on his left ear, left elbow pointing up making his posture unnatural in a way he did not realize. His chin was up, and so were his eyes. He was looking at what I presumed were the spotlights, and I did not know why. Perhaps he deals with lights, or I’m too short for him to notice.
I saw him when I turned my body around to press the button of the level I needed to go to using the lift. He didn’t look at me, nor did he look at the buttons to indicate the level he wanted to go. He wasn’t talking, even though he was holding his phone to his ear. His eyes were still looking 45 degrees up. I put down my arm after pressing the level I wanted to go.
The lift door closed, and it started moving. The embarrassing ambience of every lift journey filled the air, and he started to look around, realizing that the button to the level he wanted to go to wasn’t pressed.
“Tsk.” He let out a slight sound of annoyance, which to me was his way of showing his disapproval for my lack of concern. He went on to press the button that he wanted to go to – level 1, when we got in the lift at level 2. It is safe to say that he did not check the direction the lift was going before he entered the square chamber.
I chose the best solution in this situation, which was to ignore him. In order to make sure that his presence was felt, he opened his mouth – finally – to speak to the only person in the lift with him, and that was me.
“Can’t you ask which floor I’m going to?”
“I’m not obligated to.” I said without looking at him.
“You should see that I was busy.”
“Yes, busy keeping quiet and putting on an air of false superiority.”
He took a while to understand what I said to him, before saying, “I wasn’t keeping quiet; I was expecting you to ask.”
I turned my body towards him, looked up (he was taller than me) and stared in his eyes. I heaved out a sigh while I gathered the last words I would say to him. At this time, we were reaching the level I was going to.
“Expectations are not real. Your stupidity is.” I pointed at the button that he had pressed, before turning around and walked out the door that opened just in time.
Andy Lawson is the average man on the street that you’ll not even trouble yourself looking at him if he passes by you. He’s sensitive to bullshit, and he hates mediocrity in most people.
He is the author of his self-published book: Facts and Fiction of Fengshui: Facts that Masters are NOT Telling You.
He doesn’t have Facebook or Twitter, because he hates to be associated with people who tend to be passive-aggressive online, but he does have a very limited set of vocabularies, terrible grammar, a twisted mind that makes himself God in his own twisted world and an ability to communicate with people who wish to be his friend.