As I was wandering about today, in my travels I began to think about some pretty strange things.
One of which was: people don't talk in elevators.
This is really funny to me, because I am usually looking to strike up a conversation anywhere, and an elevator is no exception. But when standing in an elevator, everyone faces the door and gives off a distinct vibe that says "don't talk to me. We're in an elevator."
Why is this?
There are other things as well that just puzzle me, and I'll never know the answers.
Why do girls need so many shoes, and why can't they wear the same prom dress two years in a row?
How come we park in driveways, yet drive on parkways?
Why does hair grow in our armpits?
Why are yawns contagious?
*shrug*
I'm sure there are more of these things that my wiped-out mind can't grab right now.
About Me
- Brandon
- I work at a software company in Bellingham, love reading, writing, being outside, and studying the different cultures God has created to worship him. Ascribe to the LORD the glory due his name.
3 comments:
The day you get married, your personal "why question quotient" will go up exponentially.
Why does it matter if you wore that outfit/shirt/pants/socks the last time so-and-so saw you?
Why do you continue to put my keys there when I always put me keys here?
Why does my pillow case need to match the sheets?
There are always more "why's" on the horizon. That much I do know.
Am I working?
YES!!!
OK, elevators. I think people don't talk there because, #1, committing to a conversation in a very closed space is just way out of most people's comfort zone, and #2, for people like you and I, you hate to get started on a conversation on the way to the 14th floor only to find the "conversant" is getting out on the 3rd floor!
Girls and shoes. Being a boy, I don't think you'll ever understand that one. Trust me, better to just accept and embrace such things.
Ditto on the prom dress.
Driveways/parkways. Sounds like something our British ancestors started. Maybe they called everything a "paak-way" until some minor family tiff broke out, an enterprising child moved to Detroit, and decided to break from tradition.
Hair in the armpits. No clue, but boys would look very funny without any.
Yawns. I haven't the foggiest idea, but it would be fun to see if they're just as contagious in an elevator. . .!
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