I don't mean I serve dinner at your favorite dine in establishment. I mean; I wait. When it comes to making big decisions, I wait until I feel it's the right time. When it comes to trying something new, I wait for others to do it first. When it comes to enjoying a truly delicious meal, I wait and first consider how many times around the block I'm going to have to walk to counteract it. And when it comes to elevator etiquette, I wait for everyone to leave first before I walk in. You'd think this was some ancient form of southern gentility with how few times I've actually seen it practiced. Students rush into the elevator so engrossed in their own thoughts and plans that they don't even see there are other people inside the elevator about to step out. My question, where were their mothers?
I know, only I could bring a post like this back to my mother. I remember, distinctly, the many times my mother held me back with sheer physical force at times when all I wanted to do was rush ahead, throw myself into the elevator shaft and push all the buttons I could find with my tiny little hands. There she was, with one hand on my shoulder and quiet whispered tone, "wait for everyone else to leave first". This morning I found myself clapping my hands together with frustration and snapping my fingers to get the attention of the student who catapulted herself inside the elevator while the poor student on crutches waited patiently for her to get inside before he left. I resorted to mumbling my etiquette lesson as I walked out, "you wait for everyone to get off BEFORE you walk inside the elevator. hello!". So where were their mothers? Is this a generational lack of politeness? Were their mothers in the 70s rushing ahead recklessly without first checking to see if someone was already on the elevator? Did they not have the patient hand of a mothering teacher on their shoulder telling them to "wait just a minute, then you can push the button".
What this taught me you ask? First comes patience and the reward inevitably follows.
It taught me to lift my head up, look around me, see if there is someone waiting to remove themselves from the elevator before I go charging ahead. It taught me to look before I leap and test the waters before I jump in. It taught me to have patience, think it through and then, when all signs point to clear, walk confidently inside and light up every single button within sight until I reach my desired destination. Ding!
