In the Harbor Tower, the elevator had rules. Nobody wrote them down, but everybody knew them. Rule one: watch the numbers. Rule two: never speak. Rule three: never look at anyone.
One Monday at 8:52 the elevator stopped between floors seven and eight. Six people were inside: Dev, a young intern, with a tray of coffees; Mrs. Fischer, the accountant; Mr. Landau, the boss; Gloria, the cleaner; Rafi, a courier; and old Mr. Abel, who was bringing a plant to his daughter.
For five minutes they obeyed the rules. Nobody spoke, and the elevator music played the same cheerful song again and again.
At last Rafi said, "Does anyone else hate this song?"
Silence. Then Mrs. Fischer whispered, "Every single day." "For eleven years," said Gloria. Everyone turned to look at Mr. Landau. "I chose it," he said, very slowly. Then he began to laugh, and so did everyone else.
They started to hum, then to sing along, very badly. Thirty minutes later the doors opened, and they stepped out as friends.
The next morning, in the elevator, Dev hummed the song. Gloria joined in, then Mr. Landau, while the new passengers stared.
