Elevator pitch

In the nooks and crannies of a corporate workplace lurks awkward silence, small-talk (also the bane of my existence) and the half-ass smirk/smile one is subjected to while crossing paths in (carefully designed — very — narrow) corridors.

If you already haven’t pieced it together, the writer of this nugget works a corporate job. Nothing fancy about that, one would conclude. The struggle and temptation to make conversation ensue moments into your ride up the elevator.

Oh, look! There’s Timothy from accounting! You lock eyes, and just before you launch into a smile, he looks away. Sheesh, buddy! I thought we had a moment last week at the water cooler. I had to bear witness to your struggle of preparing an instant espresso, the whole 25 seconds of it.

Only inches away you spot the girl who farted in your cubicle while you had stepped away to meet Timothy in accounting — to confront him about his behaviour this morning. Your flatulence has gone a long way, madam.

And what about the over-friendly folk who can’t seem to take a hint — not sure when they’re going to bring up the Linkedin request they’ve sent you. Ah, no thank you. In this sea of pretence, one is expected to get their work done, on time.

Working from home, then?