Should you need to get out as these elevator enthusiasts are entering, they appear positively annoyed, and rather than stepping out of the way, stay rooted in position, turning their body sideways, providing you with a sliver of a fleshy human funnel to squeeze through. This brings me the only pleasure I can derive from being in a packed elevator – seeing the faces of these people when they realise no one is getting out and they have to wait for the next one. However, such delight quickly morphs into discomfort at having to silently, awkwardly blink through the long three-to-eight seconds that the doors hang open.