A guy was holding the door into the pharmacy. 4 or 5 people walked in as he held the door.
Me and Ivy were nearing the entrance, I see his other hand doing a weird come-on through motion. I spun around and went right back to the car. Ivy scrambled to catch me up. Asking what the heck was my problem.
I side-eye and see the guy still standing there with the door in his hand. Looking after us like we were nuts(well, I kinda am, but still)
First off, I’m thinking every one inside wishes he would move on and shut that pneumonia hole. It had to have let much cold air inside.
Second, I don’t trust people who do these things. I’m not sure why I don’t trust a creepy looking guy holding the door and many people pass and then he follows behind. Just why?
Now if you see someone struggling on a crutch or walker, yes sure. Help. But just a average looking shoppers?
Something ain’t adding up.
I just know I’m not passing through a door, after a crowd and be the last in line. Not happening.
Is it just me?
I am normally a trusting person, some things just make hairs on my neck to stand up. This is one.
I think it’s just you. I’ve often seen someone hold a door when a group of people, not necessarily all together, were approaching, and continue to hold it until everybody was through. I never thought anything of it.
What did you think he was going to do? Did you have your wallet sticking out of your back pocket and thought he was going to grab it?
I think it’s you. Where I’m from it’s considered a courteous thing to do. I still do it frequently and most say thank you and seem genuinely appreciative.
Ok. I’m gonna mark it up to my general anxiety about most everything.
The thing is we were a good bit away from the door and him waving was just creepy.
And yes, stuff in the back pocket is an issue. My daughter’s phone was slipped outta her back pocket in a Walmart at Christmas.
She was able to find it at someone’s house but there’s no recourse. The police ain’t gonna recover it. Big mess to get all her stuff and passwords redone. Get a new phone.
Don’t wag your phone on your butt where the world can see it. Too many thieves roaming around.
But I am also aware when not to hold the door open, when doing so would place pressure on the incoming pedestrian to unnecessarily pick up the pace to not further inconvenience the door-holder.
Beck, this is the most UnSouthern thing I have heard from you.
Our beloved Mothers raised us to hold the door open for women and girls.
Were I to fail in that, Mama Plant, G-d rest her soul, would come back from the grave and slap me.
Granted, in New Hampshire, I stepped back for two ladies (and I use the term loosely) to enter a super market automatic door before me, and they ran away in panic.
We ain’t Yankees!
Calm yourself. Eat some pecan (PUH KAHN, dammit) pie and grits.
I think that’s OK. Something in a more primitive part of your brain was alarmed (even if you couldn’t say why exactly) and it set off your defense mechanisms. I don’t think it was “judgement” so much as an instinctive reaction to perceived danger. Those senses can keep you alive. They can also leave you feeling silly.
Note: This post comes only about an hour after I semi-chastised Beck for “judging” all delivery people based on YouTubes of some fetchboyz* being assholes. She wasn’t really being that judgmental in that thread, but I push back against some generalizations when I come across them.
The “fetchboyz” are not exactly a consistent bunch. There’s good and there’s bad.
Like I said I’ve never used a food delivery service. I have gotten loads of deliveries. Being nice is nice and all, but they want tips. Just like my hairdresser, and many service persons.
I judge the waitress at the restaurant otherwise I wouldn’t know how to tip. I judge how my hairdresser does my hair. I have too, I spent many years finding the good ones. Yes I tip well. I assume I’ve made many of her credit card payments. Some judging is important to decision making. Else we just accept things and just kick the wall.
I’m sorry, if you say you never judge you must be a saint. Good or bad, we all do it.
