There is something about being confined in cramped quarters with multiple strangers inside a metal box dangling over nothing but air that is downright uncomfortable.

Although the mental image resembles something like the brief moments before a horrifyingly graphic scene from the movie Saw, it is not the acrophobia (the fear of heights) that causes the internal restlessness.

Instead, it is the inevitable social awkwardness that occurs nearly every time you step into an elevator.

Like a broken iPod Shuffle, the same situation repeats over and over again. Once the steel doors slide closed, an implicit round of "the silent game" breaks out, no one daring to make a sound or movement that might jeopardize his or her participation.

In fact, no one releases their bated breath until the ride comes to an end and the doors open to offer an escape from this void of ease.

But one of the unsolved mysteries surrounding elevators is their amazing ability to make time stall. The minute or so spent in this chronological vortex drags out longer than an Aaron Neville rendition of "The Star-Spangled Banner."

However, there are a few moments of pure loathing that we all get to encounter on this excursion of ascension. One example is that people get on or off at any floor that is on the lower third of the building.

There is simply nothing more irritating to someone living on the upper floors than passing all the high numbered floors on your trip down, just to end up stopping on level 3 for someone who can't walk down two flights of stairs.

Ironically, most of these people tend to be wearing workout clothes.

There are also the people who can't seem to understand the purpose behind the big light-up arrow that shows the direction in which elevator is traveling. If I had a dime for every time someone got on, just to realize it was going the opposite way they intended, I would have roughly $4.70.

Unlike other socially uncomfortable situations, the one experienced in the elevator cannot be easily cured by initiative and self-confidence. Thus, a different approach is needed to make this minute commute more enjoyable.

In an effort to alleviate the discomfort of these situations, my friends and I have tried various things to push the envelope on the awkwardness of these situations. By making the situation that much more awkward, it will ideally push the comfort to a breaking point, making the entire encounter less intense.

Last year, we saw a video in psychology class that showed the pack mentality of people. An experiment was conducted in which four people stood in an elevator facing the back wall instead of the front. The idea was to gauge people's reactions when the doors opened to reveal these four non-conformists, and how they'd respond. Most people followed.

Since college is a time for experimentation, we decided to conduct such experiments of our own.

There are a few key elements in order to make these successful. The first and most important rule is to have at least two or three accomplices. If you attempt such an act alone or even with a friend, you will just come across as sketchy.

Another, more difficult rule is to maintain composure. Keeping a straight face is essential to selling the reality of your experiment.

When doing the "face the back" of the elevator routine, we have seen numerous reactions. There have been the typical sheep-like followers and those unwilling to even enter the elevator at all. But the most interesting ones came when people tried to question the act.

One time, people began guessing among each other what we were doing. Possibilities were rattled off. But once the idea of size comparison and the mention of the term "banana-hammock" arose, all composure was lost.

The tension of the elevator was immediately released, and a lively discussion ensued (an elevator rarity).

I would highly encourage all people to "go there" and be a little abstract with their elevator behavior. By not taking yourself seriously, you can turn the entire vibe of that time around.

It's college. We have the rest of our lives to be serious and reserved. We can afford to break out of our shells and be a little bizarre at times, especially if it's to speed up the slow passage of time in the elevator.

[Reach columnist Jeff Dickson at opinion@thedaily.washington.edu.]