Kvetch or Kvell: Stuck in an Elevator with Conrad Black

I raced directly to my computer. Do you know what Conrad Black meant with whatever that polysyllabic word he used during that (seemingly) fourteen-hour ride to the third floor, which felt like the 30th floor?

It meant…“spring-like.”

The dude was saying the weather was nice outside. Inwardly I blasted, “great, Eckler. You made such a great impression. Not!”

But, mostly, I was pissed! “Why the hell didn’t he just say, ‘it feels like Spring?’”

Yet, thanks to that experience with just Conrad Black (kvelling!) it propelled me, from that day forward, to think of every single future interaction on elevators as entertainment. I would become the best elevator small talker that had ever lived!

I’m the first to kvetch, “wear a damn mask, you idiots,” while also kvetching that by having to wear a mask, I miss those small talk moments.

But allow me to digress; I recently read a quote: “Drunk women in washrooms are some of the most supportive and empowering people in the planet.” It’s funny because it’s so true. The same could be said for being sober and talking to strangers in elevators. Pre-COVID, I did meet some pretty awesome drunk women in the confined space of restrooms.

Once, after “Tequila Rebecca” complimented a woman on her fabulous enviable breasts in a Yorkville restaurant washroom, not only did she ask me if I wanted to touch them, which of course I did, I told her I’d been thinking of getting a lift, so I would never have to wear a bra.

She told me not to, and that my natural boobs were at least a 7/10, so getting a boob lift wasn’t worth the expense or recovery.

How could I not kvell at her 7/10 breast- rating? It turned out she worked for probably Toronto’s most well-known cosmetic surgeon. She was an expert! A very drunk expert!

She did “support me” (pun intended) to buy better bras, and empowered me to love my natural breasts.

Once, I met a woman sobbing hysterically in the shared washroom on the floor of my office (pre-COVID). “You look like you really need a hug,” I said to this woman, adding, “I give really good pep talks!”

Within ten minutes, I knew just as much more about her life than I did my colleagues who sat near me, for years. Her boyfriend had cheated on her, they had just broken up, she had plans to go to Italy, her shade of nail polish. I even learned her dog’s name! All I had said to her, was what I would say to any girlfriend, or my teenage daughter, which was, “why do you want to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with you?”

It turned out that was all the support she needed. I empowered her to be positive; she was going to meet someone who wasn’t an asshole. She then invited me to a different floor, where she actually worked. It turned out she is a painter and shared the space with a number of artists.

She was so grateful for my pep-talk, she insisted on giving me a painting that I loved, for free. I kvell to this day, whenever I walk by her work, on how generous she was. All because we met in a confined space.