Revolving Door Revolt!

When I was younger, I thought revolving doors were cool. Not as cool as Buddy the Elf thought they were, but then again, I don’t think anyone ever gets that excited about anything. (When you grow up in a town where automatic doors are few and far between, the revolving ones sure were a novelty.)

As I entered adulthood, my regard for those revolvers has plummeted. Quickly. Drastically. Now I associate that special variety of doors with office buildings and office buildings with work and work with being an adult and sometimes I just want to go back to the automatic doors of my youth.

Yes, I know. They’re good for the environment, keeping AC and heat in. But they’re such a pain in the ass.

Every morning there’s a line outside my office building of people waiting to go through the stupid revolving doors. A LINE! And another queue going out when the day is over. I just want to get out of here come 5pm and it makes me very, very angry when you have to wait patiently as everyone takes their turn.

I am not a patient person.

I’ve tried to be patient and understanding in the past. But revolving doors have made me very bitter. At my first job, especially. There was only one – ONE – revolving door and it would take foreverrrrr to get out of there when the workday was finished.

One time a couple of girls kept watching the doors swing round and round. “You go!” They said, giggling, in the voice awkward coworkers use on one another, full of faux niceness. “No, you go!” It spun round and round and round again. My blood starting to boil. And I exploded.

“JUST GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I shouted at them. Four eyes glared at me, two mouths dropped. I thought I was going to get bitch slapped. (I’ve since learned to reign in my anger and use restraint when it comes to shouting at people in the revolving door line. But again, they’re such a pain in the bootay.)

You get yelled at for cutting people off, yet all you want to do is rush in front of them because it takes so long.

If people aren’t pushing on the door as hard as you are, they get smacked in the heels and give you the stinkeye.

It’s not even fun anymore when you sneak in with someone else cause your OWN heels get slapped. And that’s just painful.

Gaaaah, why can’t there be a better way! Come on architects, you’re smart! Get cracking!