Stuttering on the Elevator

Have an idea for a business? They say you should be able to distill it into a few-seconds-long “elevator pitch.” I’m sure you’ve heard this before. And I’m sure that if you stutter, you just sort of laugh at this notion. Sometimes I can’t even say the floor number I want to go to if someone is asking. That’s always a real awkward gem. Doors are closing, it’s close quarters, really quiet, the easiest question ever.

Aside — how many of you have just said, yeah, that’s it, (already pressed) instead of saying the floor number? And then you get off on that floor, and say, oh, whoops, this isn’t right. And then turn around and call the elevator again, this time hoping you’ll be the only one in there, or at least be able to get in and push the button. Or just take the stairs. Stuttering as a weight loss plan. Great.

So while I’ve been programmed to just shut my mouth on elevator rides, I am talking more now. And still stuttering more. And not caring if other people on the elevator are listening in. If I’m waiting with someone on the top floor, and we’re both going down to the ground level, chances are good that our conversation will continue all the way through. People will get on and off, and I’ll just talk on through. I’m getting better at this. Does this mean I can just blurt out something witty and spontaneous and not stutter? Heavens no. But stuttering with someone at the company who is way more senior than me doesn’t put me off as much.

I’m not sure right now if I should be trying to meet more people — and using elevator run-ins as the fuel for this. I mean, I haven’t even met everybody on my floor yet. Can I just leave it at that for now?

Lastly, (and thankfully) I usually don’t stutter at all on the floor I’m on — it’s easy for me to say, “ten.”