Sunday, January 8, 2012

The problem with doors...

Does anyone else have a problem with doors?

Maybe other “lefties” can identify somewhat but this seriously funny (to everyone else) problem that I have, is becoming ever increasingly NOT funny to me. You would think that by the law of averages, at least 50% of the time I would choose the right door – the one that opens the way I push it – to allow free passage into stores, banks, offices, restaurants etc. but that’s not the case.

Inevitably, if there are two doors, the one I push is locked and the other is the one that opens freely. Why do they put two doors there if only one opens?  I mutter as, yet again, I try to switch to the other door unnoticed.  

If there is only one door into an establishment, also inevitably, I will push when I should pull or pull when I should push. The frequency that this happens has become a joke, like “let her go first and watch her go through the door.”

Even in places that I visit often – our favourite coffee shop comes to mind – I can’t remember which door I am supposed to use, and with a reverse savant-like determination, nearly 100% of the time, I choose the wrong door.

I must add that on the odd chance that I choose the right door, proceed immediately into the building and do a happy dance, laughing and clapping my hands in the foyer/entranceway of often very public places, I am equally embarrassed by the looks I get.

The first door problem I can remember occurred in high school. I took public transit in the days before backpacks when binders and text books were strategically balanced as we made our way on and off the buses. Off was the problem. While balancing my books in one arm, I would step onto the two stairs at the exit and notice, time and time again, my free hand was on the opposite side from the bar that pushed open the door. The bar was always on the same side but try as I might, I couldn’t remember. I would have to quickly shift my load from one arm to the other, not an easy task when carrying two or three binders and an equal number of text books. Or I would have to reach across myself and as the door opened, hop out (mostly successfully) sideways.

I also have a problem with sliding doors – specifically the one at the local library. As most people approach, the door opens and they walk right through without breaking stride. I, however, must sidle in on an angle because the door rarely opens until it and I are almost glass to nose. I have also been known to stand in front of the wrong glass panel waiting for a tightly sealed window to open.

So today, as I walk up to the door at London Drugs, I consciously think to myself – how many people do you know that think about how a door is going to open when they reach it – that’s how neurotic I am I becoming. Anyway, I think  Ah, only one automatic door – piece of cake. So I walk boldly and with confidence toward the door and…

it doesn’t open. The door is broken. I have to stop abruptly to keep from running into it. My husband wisely squelches a laugh as I pull, no push, open the door and march in.

Thanks for the picture, son  8)
Far Side, Gary Larson