One of the first restrictions to go when Metro Manila was put under Alert Level 1 - the least strict pandemic restriction, under this still convoluted new set of restrictions - was the limit on the number of people who can be at the elevator at any given time.

Sure, it wasn't really something mandated by the government, but it was something building owners decided to do from the moment the phrase "social distancing" became inescapable. In the spirit of social distancing, only four people can ride the elevator at any given time. There were even markings on the floor to indicate where you should stand, and in some cases, where you should face. This was the case at the building where my offices are. You were supposed to face the wall. I imagine if people followed it, it would look awkward. You'd be entering an elevator where everyone was given a time-out for being rowdy in the classroom.

But yes, I was working at home. We haven't really reopened our offices yet, although we are in the process of doing so. (PLDT takes forever to reconnect our phones.) This four-at-a-time rule is also a thing at the flat, and I go up and down almost on the daily, to run errands, mostly. I live on one of the upper floors, so there's a better chance that I'd be in an empty elevator. But also, this isn't an office building, so the elevators are rarely full, unlike in my last job, where I had to contend with employees from the top floors hogging the elevators throughout the lunch hour. (Hello, Allene.)

At least the floor markings did not, um, suggest to us where we could face. Like in my current offices, the elevators at my flat - well, two of the three - are surrounded by mirrors. If you're alone, you could take the time to check on your face, make sure nothing's amiss. If you're not alone, and you feel compelled somehow to face the wall, you'll have to make an extra effort not to catch the gaze of whoever else is in the elevator. This is why you also face the wall, you'd argue. But then, who really wants that?

That brings us to today - the past few weeks, really - where the restrictions have been lifted. It's a hard thing to unlearn, to be honest. The markings disappeared overnight, and the notices on the bulletin boards explicitly say that elevator capacity is now at the maximum allowed by the elevator itself, but at least in the first few weeks people would avoid riding the elevator when there are four people already inside. And, well, it was fine. We still have the pandemic on our minds, as evidenced by the fact that we still have to wear masks. It meant fewer awkward situations, and that's a win for everyone. But then, this was that time between alert levels where people aren't sure what is and isn't allowed. We've haven't twigged the returning possibilities yet, but we soon will.

One day I was going back up the flat from the lobby - another Shopee delivery - when I found myself leaving the elevator open for what turned out to be a group of chatty middle-aged women. You know, the tita demographic. Five in all, they were going to one of the units to, I don't know, really. Maybe it's a book club or a prayer meeting? They definitely had that vibe, of friends met later in life doing things in a slightly more formal fashion than when you were younger. They also didn't realize that the elevator restrictions are gone, but foolish me decided to let them in. I mean, I'm a sucker for the rules most of the time, and I know it sucks to wait for an elevator that wouldn't arrive in ten minutes, not that it ever was the case at the flats. Also, being (relatively) courteous is another habit that's hard to break.

But as they chatted throughout the short elevator ride, I wondered if I should regret my decision. I mean, they weren't noisy, but the chatter was consistent and it felt like I was intruding. More degrees of awkwardness I haven't encountered face-to-face in two years or so.

A few days later, it happened again. This time, Shalla and I were in the elevator, and we were going to the parking lot to drive somewhere. I let a bunch of people in, and, well, they weren't as chatty. But we both regretted the decision - well, specifically, she said that maybe I shouldn't have been so nice at that time. They hesitated to go in, and I had to say, no, go ahead, the restrictions are gone. And now, the elevator, for some reason, stunk a little too much. Someone has a case of bad breath so bad it broke through the masks, and I'm sure as hell it's not from either of us.