[Writingworkshop] Lift Filling Anomalies for Nerds
Neale Morison
neale.morison at g2microsystems.com
Sun Sep 7 21:40:17 EDT 2008
Lift Filling for Nerds
I love my job because the lifts work. The building dates from the 70s,
a time when it was believed that the appearance of ferro-concrete could
be improved by detailed attention to its texture, perhaps by embedding
tiny pebbles in it. The other occupants are Energy Australia and the
AEC, which at first I thought was the Atomic Energy Commission. On the
first day I tried a pleasantry when manoeuvering my bike into the lift:
"Make way for clean energy". Very blank looks. It turns out it's the
Australian Electoral Commission.
There are 7 lifts in this building, which has only 20 floors, maybe less
than 2000 people altogether. The lifts go fast and they work. They claim
they can take 23 people each. You could empty the building in twenty
minutes. The only obvious logical error is that when they respond to
your call but have come from the other direction to the one you're
going, they know they have responded so the call button goes off, but
they don't know they're supposed to wait for you to get in and then go
back the other way. The doors close. You press the button again. The
doors open. It's an easy workaround. They built beautiful lift hardware
in the 70s, but their software was primitive. Schindler. Was the movie
Schindler's List a pun on Schindler Lifts? Best lift scene: Die Hard 3,
in the Federal Reserve Bank. Best lift ride: The Ski Jump lift in
Innsbruck, Australia. This is one of the things I consider as I ride up
and down, but mostly I take the opportunity to observe lift-filling
algorithms in practice and to test my theories regarding lift-filling
anomalies.
The basic principle, as we all know, is that personal space is at a
premium in a lift ... is everybody with me? Obviously I mean elevators,
not the things short people put in their shoes like Dustin Hoffman in
Tootsie - "I can be shorter!" ... so people fill the lift progressively
to maximise personal space and minimise the appearance of threat to
other primates. If there is one person, they typically go to the control
panel.
The next person to enter goes to the corner diagonally opposite. The
next person goes to the other rear corner. The corner opposite the
control panel, nearest the door, is filled last, because the door has a
mild repulsion field, not as strong as the repulsion field of another
person but still significant.
Try this. If you find yourself alone in a lift, stand in the corner
opposite the control panel, at the front, facing the back. Not only does
it feel very strange, but when people enter the lift, they are
troubled. They move diagonally opposite, but the distribution does not
adjust in your direction as the lift fills. By standing anomalously,
you are strengthening your repulsion field.
On a recent trip a man in a business suit stood for several floors,
directly against the doors and facing them, with his fingers in the
crack between the doors as if trying to prise them apart. At his floor
he left in the normal way, and he gave no other evidence of abnormality,
but the relief on his departure was palpable. I palped it myself, and I
would have checked the other occupants but they had already had one
weird lift experience that day. "Phew! Did you palp that?"
Inappropriate. As is any general speech in a lift. Because there is no
escape, etiquette demands that we do not take advantage of the situation.
The lifts in this building are broader than they are deep, so when
twelve people enter the lift, they form three rows of four. When two
people leave the lift, there are only ten left, and the factors of ten
do not match the ratio of the lift dimensions, so the occupants form two
rows of three and one of four.
The general principles of repulsion are disrupted by personal
attraction of some kind, and this creates social tension, because
although we never discuss it, we all know the lift-filling algorithm in
our deep subconscious and it is effortful to recalculate. Similar
difficulties occur with
enhanced repulsion - a person who runs at lunchtime and has not taken
their gear home to wash it for two months, for example. Or an anomalous
person.
A bicycle is particularly disruptive to our innate lift-filling
algorithm. Bicycles are, in general, anomalous objects. They are
impossible to pack, store, wrap, transport, conceal or disguise. A
person entering a lift with a bicycle is perhaps one of the boldest
possible threats to personal space
and the established social order. The look of dismay on people's faces
is immediate. They then shuffle aimlessly, unable to process the complex
geometrical problem presented to them. Just as the cyclist must be
assertive in traffic, the cyclist entering a lift must take charge.
Point the bicycle firmly at the rear corner of choice, then move slowly
but with determination toward it, gently demonstrating the flexibility
afforded by the rotation of the front fork. The other lift occupants may
not have realised the the bike can be inserted more or less in a corner.
As the lift empties, demonstrate a restrained but lively willingness to
reposition the bike in whatever configuration is convenient to permit
people to depart. Watch them closely. When they fidget, it means their
stop is near. Do not make eye contact! Look at their feet, their
shoulder, the tails of their jacket. Do not apologise! You may thank
them, but only if they have done something overtly intended to
accommodate you. Otherwise they may fear that you are using the bike as
an excuse to hit on them.
A successful lift bike ride concludes with moving the bike smoothly out
of the lift, without snagging any ankles or other extremities. Check
your pulse and monitor your breathing during the journey. If the rate is
rising perceptibly, chant the calming mantra of your choice. Under your
breath.
--
Neale Morison <neale.morison at g2microsystems.com>
neale at nealemorison.com
http://www.nealemorison.com
0417 661 427
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