Have you ever struggled to open a door?
I don’t mean you’ve had your hands full, balancing a full
glass of vodka and coke (or whatever’s your poison) in one hand, a blackcurrant
ice lolly in the other, with a book tucked under your arm, and struggled with a
door handle.
I’m talking about being so damn stupid you can’t open a
door. I find myself in this particular situation a lot. Well, maybe not daily,
but certainly more than I believe is statistically average.
If there are two entrances to a place, and one is locked, I
will always pick the locked one. Always.
If a door needs to be pulled, I push it. If it needs to be pushed, I pull it.
Mostly, I just try both. And still the door doesn’t open.
I have to come to a halt in front of automatic sliding
doors, waiting for them to do their stuff. I feel like I’m awaiting validation
from some unseen source. When my identity has been confirmed, the doors slowly
slide back into their recesses.
Not having a door
can equally be a problem. You know those stores in shopping centres that are
completely open-fronted, with no doors or windows? I was in one of those once,
or at least I thought I was. When I went to leave and walked straight into the
plate glass window, I realised I wasn’t. The sales assistant seemed very genuine
in her concern, despite her tears of laughter. I must have gone in through a
door to get into that shop (I certainly did to get out of it, quite quickly and
with a glowing face), but hadn’t remembered doing so. I guess it must have been
one of the few occasions that I’d managed to open a door seamlessly, therefore
obliterating the action from my memory.
Which doors have flummoxed you?
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