So, look, I’m freelancing and very delighted to be doing so. Don’t get the wrong idea, people. That post title is between me and the germ-tube, and me and the germ-tube ONLY. Hey, germ-tube, “Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!” Anyway, as I made my way through the germ-tube of derision that stood between me and my place of glorious biz (come on, you know that germ-tube is so totally mocking us as it makes us mince ever so slowly through to the other side), I realized it was a splendid time to revisit this post. And here we are.
You won the first round, but it’s not over, revolving security door. OK, you are a machine, and I’m merely a human. So, I guess it’s probably over.
Published on October 15, 2013
The revolving security door at my office rejected me last Friday. It flashed green when I swiped my badge tricking me into entering its little tube of contained crap-air, and then halfway through my journey to the other side, it stopped completely, trapping me with nowhere to go, and started belting out an alarming noise to alert people from miles away that I was unwanted. AND THEN IT REVERSED DIRECTION AND EJECTED ME. In front of a line of 10 waiting people. That dastardly machine lured me into its embrace, then deemed me unworthy and booted me in front of my colleagues. I stumbled dejectedly to the back of the line to wait my next turn, afraid to meet anyone’s eyes while clamping my lips tight against my rebellious mouth that kept wanting to loudly assure everyone that I had indeed bathed today and was most definitely not afflicted with some frightening virus that would soon bring them all to their knees. Then the little shit let me in again the next time I swiped my card and ushered me all the way through when there was no line of people left to witness my exoneration. I got in after it gave me the green light giving it the stink eye during the entirety of my slow shuffle-walk because, you know, fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. Anyway, that time I was escorted all the way to the other side. Technology likes to mess with me, I guess. It’s just like Google Maps punking me.
So, to the creator of the revolving security door*, I know what you were up to when you created your little spinning torture chamber. You wanted to mess with certain types of people, didn’t you? My suspicion is that you hate germophobes, claustrophobes and those likely to make stupid mistakes. I am all three of those people, so thank you sir/madam.
- For example, the germophobes. I happen to be one of those, though I fight it with all my might. And one time I had to follow a coughing and sneezing man into one of those tubes of germy air. I counted the line of people in front of me and guess who got to enjoy his tube when he exited after having his coughing and sneezing fit inside? That’s right, me. It’s not the poor man’s fault. Dude’s sick. He was just trying to get through his work day while dealing with the nasty flu or cold. But before he could start his work day, he got to enjoy a little rotation in his private tube which he filled with sneezes and coughs. I bet he was pretty glad to exit his tube on the other side. And then I got to get in there. I tried to surreptitiously hold my breath. But you would not BELIEVE how slow those damn revolving doors move, and I have the lung capacity of a gnat. My breath ran out about halfway through, and I was forced to choose between presenting the security guard my dead carcass which she would have to drag out of the way so that others could pass, or to just suck it up and suck up the germy air. I chose option B because I love my family, and it seemed like a pretty shitty way for the security guard to start her day. So you’re going to call me a liar, but I got sick a few days later. I’ll give you a moment to call me a liar now. Feel better? But yeah, I really did get sick. Am I sure it was the same virus? Yes. No. Yes! At the very least, it seems a bit suspicious, don’t you think? I shouldn’t have asked you. You aren’t a germophobe. Moving on.
- Next example, claustrophobes. Clearly I was lucky to be ejected from the revolving security door because it’s obvious that its underlying malicious intent (yes, I’ve now included the door in the conspiracy) is to mess with people who are claustrophobic by trapping them mid-cycle and letting them panic in their little see-through tube while bystanders point and stare. I suppose you, sir or madam creator, described the reason for trapping an unauthorized person in mid-spin was so that they could be interrogated by security personnel as to their nefarious plans. Ah, but then why did your little trickster door flash green and admit them entry in the first place? If they are an unauthorized person, shouldn’t your little invention have stopped them? Huh? Huh? You’ve got no answer to explain that one, do you? I’ve exposed your vicious purpose.
- And finally. The last group of people. Those likely to make stupid mistakes. That’s me. Those little tubes are of course meant to be single occupancy. Yes, I know this. But my attention can wander. Particularly when I’m talking to someone, and we are having an entertaining conversation. And maybe that person has a bit of a wicked streak. I don’t blame that person. I have a bit of a wicked streak, too. And let’s say I’m talking to that person, and I wander into a tube with a gentleman and things get a bit awkward as the tube is quite overloaded with the two of us. And I find myself spooning him. And if I was that other person with whom I was conversing, would I try and stop my friend from entering the tube? I most certainly would not. You do not interfere with a situation such as this when the result is going to provide you with side-splitting laughter for years. I’m laughing so hard I’m tearing up as I type this, and the embarrassment I experienced as a result of it was off the charts. Anyway. I’ve blocked some of this incident out, but I’m certain that the doors blared their alarms, and the poor man and I were forced to exit. Still sorry, sir! And I’m certain we were able to make our way through again successfully the next time. I also feel certain that the man gave me a wide berth every time he saw me after. I know I would have. But I would imagine that sir or madam designer of the revolving security door may have foreseen some of these types of situations and thought, “I cannot WAIT to visit this kind of misery on people.”
So, now here I am. Dueling with this revolving security door. Who do you think is going to win this battle? Exactly. I have no chance. That stupid door is going to mess with me, and there’s nothing I can do about it, because now it has my badge code.
*Yes, I know I can google it. I did a little sleuthing, and I found it all started with a German man who invented the revolving door and got no glory. Then, some Philadelphia dude did it because he hated holding doors because he’s lazy as all hell. But the security part came later of course, and I think that is the key component to all this madness. Then, I lost steam and here we are with sir/madam.