I’m on the elevator in the Cathedral of Learning, and the last guy to get on turns to press… I’m on the elevator in the Cathedral of Learning, and the last guy to get on turns to press the button for his floor, which, of course, is labeled “1.” I think to myself, these kids today, too lazy to use one flight of stairs. I guess everyone today is raised in houses with elevators.

Then I think that I must be the crotchetiest, crustiest 21-year-old male in history.

I regard these people with the level of disgust that I might have for someone who willfully defecated in his pants. Except for the elderly people, who should be taking the elevator, and who really can’t help defecating in their pants.

But I shouldn’t. It’s really rather ridiculous, when you think about it. What am I going to do with those 30 seconds lost to someone taking the elevator to the first floor? I spent three hours, one day last week, playing computer golf. When I get off the elevator, I will put my bag on my desk, and make eight separate trips to the water fountain. Because why? I’m not even thirsty, there’s just nothing else to do. Whenever I need to get to class in a hurry, I take the stairs anyway, because it’s faster.

My time is so valuable.

So who am I to begrudge these people their elevator ride, when it doesn’t really cost me anything in the long run?

I’m sure you’ve been in a situation where you cross the street, and some guy or gal lays on the horn, because what are you, a pedestrian, doing in a crosswalk, of all places? And you thought it was OK to cross because the “walk” sign was lit.

Minus the horn, that’s me – an impatient jerk.

Sure, these people are lazy. Especially those who take the elevator down one floor. I mean, descending stairs isn’t even taxing.

But it’s not as if I’m not lazy. I make sure to remember how many messages were on my answering machine the last time I checked it. This way, the next time I check it, I’ll know if I have any new messages. I rarely buckle down and delete messages. Usually, a power outage will take care of that for me.

My sister has a policy: “I’ll start doing things for myself as soon as other people stop doing them for me.”

We each have our own special brand of laziness, so it doesn’t really make sense to criticize others for theirs.

And just maybe it might be considerate and thoughtful to others to take the stairs.

When I lived in Lothrop, I was on the fifth floor, and when I took the elevator, and someone was already going to the sixth floor, I would wait out the extra floor worth of elevator ride and take the stairs down. It just seemed considerate.

But what I’m getting upset about is pointless, and I’m not the only one irritated by this. Everyone has certain boundaries that define how irritated they get, or whether they even get irritated.

Some of my fellow impatient jerks say that those capable of taking the stairs should never make an elevator trip of less than four floors, some say three, some two. It seems more or less a consensus that, if there’s a long line for the elevator, if the elevator will be crowded and stuffy, then those extra 30 seconds would be cruel and unusual.

The bottom line, however, is that all of the people I discussed this with probably lost less time to these dubious elevator-goers than they spent complaining about them.

So the next time I get pissed at someone for something as meaningless as extending my elevator trips by 30 seconds, I’m going to get out of the elevator and take the stairs the rest of the way. Maybe I won’t be so impatient in the future.

Marty Flaherty trying not to be a jerk? What is the world coming to? E-mail him at [email protected] and tell him it’s a lost cause.