I work in a pretty nice office tower in the booming metropolis of Sandy, UT, where friends, families, and mormons abound. When I first moved to “Zion” back in ’94 I believed that living amongst the saints would change me for the better…that in all their piety and perfection they’d be the most happy and friendly people on the planet. (I also thought I’d date A TON because these boys would know to look on my heart and not my bounteous wrapping.) Not so much.
Most folks around here act as if they’d rather be shot than make eye contact with a stranger, which brings me back to the elevators in our building. We pile in there, push our respective buttons and then pretend to text or stare straight forward so as not to have to feel bad for refusing to make nicey nice with the other people inside. I hate this, but like a sheep, have followed protocol.
This morning, just in on the basement level from the cold and freaking rain a woman I don’t know actually held the doors for me and then said with a bright and cheery smile, “Good Morning! How are you?” I almost passed out. She was getting off on 5, me on 7, so we chatted about the crappy weather for 6 floors and when the door opened for her to depart she looked me straight in the eye and said,” Have a FABULOUS day,” and I believe she actually meant it.
And so I will.
In fact, I’ll go beyond having a fabulous day. I’ll tell other people to have a fabulous day too. For one week I vow to say hello to someone on the elevator every time I get on there. And I vow to tell them to have a fabulous day even if they don’t talk back and look at me like I’m a freak from happyville.