So I'm on the elevator this morning, getting ready to travel from the first to the fifth floor, when I noticed someone running towards the door. Instead of being an a-hole, and feverishly pressing the "door close" button, I extended my hand, so that the door could not close until the gentleman could get on with me. Once he stepped in, he thanked me, said good morning, took a deep breath, and started taking off his hat and gloves. I pushed the floor I needed, and then I just sat there and enjoyed the ride. Once we got to the third floor, I guess he realized that I wasn't going to ask him what floor he needed and press the button for him, and the following exchange ensued

Him: Oh sh*t, I needed to go to the third floor
Me: *silence*
Him: Dude, you could have asked what floor I needed and pressed it for me
Me: Oh I just figured you were going to the fifth floor
Him: Its cool man, no big deal, its just that most people ask what floors need to be pressed but its cool
Me: Sorry about that man, but if you don't say anything, I'm assuming we're going the same place.

I stepped off the elevator, looked back at the gentleman to see if I had any parting shots or last words (he did not) and then I went on about my business. Now, I will readily admit that there are times when I purposely manipulate the variables around me so that I can provoke people and have something to write about later. Its a flaw of mine that seems to only get worse as my patience decreases and my level of irritability rises. I'm working on it though (no I'm not). But this was not one of those instances, and I think I am way in the right.

Elevators are no bigger than closets, which means it takes a minimal amount of effort for someone to extend their arm to the control panel, hit the button, and enjoy the ride. You know damn well when you get on the elevator that you have somewhere to go, so why not press the button. I am not an elevator operator (not that any thing's wrong with that), this is not Mad Men, and its not like you're a great big fat person who can't make their way to the buttons. But then after I don't press your buttons, you're going to get on your high horse and attempt to educate me with your version of what elevator etiquette should be? Get the f**k outta here.

That being said, if this had been a woman, I'd have automatically hit the floor, but that's different.

And finally, a friend of mine read my blog yesterday, and hinted that by listening to a Coltrane song, instead of Life's a Bitch by Nas, I was pulling a Wynton Marsalis (who trumpets his dislike for hip hop by trying to prove again and again that jazz is superior..which is true, but he can make that point without besmirching hip hop). Well this couldn't be further from the truth. I love Nas, I love rap, but I love jazz and I love Coltrane, and yesterday Coltrane fit my mood. I'm still in the tank for both genres.