Riding the Elevator with Introverts
How I’ve learned to make it less awkward
I have to begin by saying that I’m an introvert. In fact, I’m proud to be an introvert. Introverts are my favorite people.
But introversion is defined by how we renew our energy, not by how much small talk we make in an elevator. Some of us can hold a micro-conversation about the weather for an entire six-floor ride. Some of us don’t even try.
I work on the sixth floor of a university library, a floor that holds offices that have nothing to do with the library itself. It’s possible to get all the way up to my office without ever seeing a book. The floor holds accountants and assessment specialists. Research and Technology Transfer has its own hallway. My office is the Office of Behavioral Research and Evaluation. The graduate school just moved in across the lobby.
In short, the sixth floor is full of introverts. We have a few extroverts — a couple in my office and quite a few in the graduate school. The head of assessment seems pretty outgoing. But the bulk of the people who ride the elevator to the sixth floor avoid social interaction when they can, especially small talk. I assume they just don’t have the energy for it, even first thing in the morning. I get it; I’m an introvert, remember?
But I taught high school for a million years and did church ministry for about the same amount of time, positions that are social and require a degree of small talk. I learned how to hold a meaningless conversation with people I don’t know very well.
The thing about elevators is that they’re small, cramped spaces, and you really can’t pretend you didn’t see the other person. But that’s what my colleagues want, I believe. If I end up on the elevator with, say, an accountant, I smile and that’s it. I used to say hi, but they didn’t even say it back to me. If I were someone else (an extrovert, for instance), I might be offended. But I know my people, and my people often have extreme social anxiety. I no longer say hello because what if, by doing so, I cause someone to feel bad? What if they spend the rest of the day replaying the conversation and asking themselves, “Why didn’t I just say ‘hi’?”
I don’t take it personally. I smile. Sometimes I get an almost-smile in return. We have to go through a set of double doors when we get to the sixth floor. Sometimes, if my introverted acquaintance is ahead of me, they will hold the door for me. This is as much interaction as I’m going to get, and I’m okay with it. I completely understand. My existence has been acknowledged and that’s enough.
If it’s a new person, however, I go ahead and say “hi,” just in case they’re just a sleepy extrovert. I don’t want to seem unfriendly, after all.
We used to have sixth-floor events: a bosses’ day breakfast and a Christmas potluck. The extroverts who organized it retired or moved on, and things got really awkward. The last gathering I attended was dead silent. The pandemic gave us an excuse to stop having these gatherings altogether, which was a relief to everyone.
Next week, however, an accountant is retiring. We’ve all been invited to a going-away party. I expect it will be a very silent gathering — but with cake, so I’m all in.
