Among the many entrances into the monolithis structure I call the office is a set of revolving doors. I am a big fan of these. Heck, I’d like to become rich enough and eccentric enough to build a home with them (and a fireman’s pole, but this is info for another thread.)
So today, I am coming back from a meeting in another building with a full head of steam because things went so darn well. Not a care in the world. I get to the revolving door and speed right on into it. Little did I realize how hard and fast I was spinning it. Little did I realize that a woman approximately half my size was entering the other side at the same time I did. Little did I realize that if you push the door hard enough the other person is likely to fall down, have her purse get caught in the door, and then be shot through the door much like a spitball through a straw.
She was OK, her purse was OK. I on the other hand am a big oaf who should be locked away in a small, dark room designed to keep me from inflicting pain on unsuspecitng passersby.
I’ve had the other person push too hard causing the door to hit me in the rump, which in turn causes the door speed to significantly reduce, causing said person to then hit the door face first in their haste. Even though it wasn’t my fault I still had the big clumsy oafish feeling you describe.
And I’ll see your Boubacar Aw and raise you a Maktar Ndiaye.
That is a lot funnier than what I used to do as a teenager, which was go through the door first and then wedge your foot against it on the other side so the person behind you (my friend) was trapped in the door. Man, what an asshole I was.
I’ve had all the above incidents happen to me (as the injured party), and this is why I’m claustrophobic and won’t enter a revolving door if there’s a remote possibility that another person will be enter it at the same time.
While we were in Atlanta, coincidentally, my friend Steve thought it would be real funny to stop the door out of our hotel while I was going through behind him. Hilarity would ensue, or so he thought… instead, I almost hit my head on the glass and seriously considered killing him.
Then this really tall guy ran up behind me and tried to steal my bag…
You’re not such an oaf, Mullinator. Once, I was entering a revolving door and the fellow behind me (obviously, unfamiliar with how revolving doors work) entered the same section with me! Of course, both our rhythms were thrown off and we had to shuffle through together. How uncomfortable shuffling through a small revolving door section with a complete stranger. Now HE was an oaf.
Okay, maybe you were a little bit oafish. Funny oaf, though.
This is how “Deb’s rule of embarrassment” goes: “When a social fox paw is committed, the offender is destined to meet the offendee at frequent intervals.” You realize you are destined to meet this woman now in many meetings.
I used to work in a building with a revolving door. One time as a group of us were aproaching it we all slowed down. The lady behind us apparently thought we were waiting to be polite to her and gave us a nasty “I don’t need that” as she barreled into the door at full speed. She never even noticed the blind guy with the white cane who was cautiously using the door, and the reason we were holding off in the first place. The door caught and broke his cane, slammed him in the back of the head, and he flew out face first into the cement. She never even stopped to look back, so you’re not the worst of the door users.
Well me and my hubby, bein’ sutherners and all don’t ever get to use revolving doors. We somehow stumbled across one at a buisness in Orlando. I went into the cubby hole and start pushing when all of a sudden my husband yelps because he got caught in the door. I berated him forever about how it is one person per cubby hole. Ughhhh! he insists it is romantic :rolleyes:
Well I am glad it was you and not me Mully, I would have been horrified and yes I woulda busted up laughing thereby increasing my feeling of being horrified because of the poor woman!
I can only think of one building in my city that I have entered or exited via a revolving door. I avoid it as much as possible as it’s a bank branch located downtown and I live about 20 minutes from there.
I’m part of a strange group of people who react in an unusual way to revolving doors, we take them over and keep going around and around, sometimes until they call the cops or the manager or whoever’s in charge.
We get a lot of dirty looks, but it’s fun as hell.
Try it sometime, it’s the silliest thing you’ll do all day, I promise. You’ll laugh and laugh.
your humble TubaDiva
With a tip of the hat to DanonT, who made me laugh the first time.
While I was laughing uproariously at Mullinator’s revolving door thread (well, at Mullinator, actually), it suddenly occurred to me that I had my own hideous problem with revolving doors.
An etiquette question, really. It’s too mundane for GQ, and possibly even for IMHO, so I’m gonna post it here.
Suppose you’re strolling along the avenue with a charming lady, deep in conversation, and you encounter a revolving door at the entrance of the establishment you wish to enter.
With good old-fashioned doors, you gallantly sweep the thing open and allow the lady to pass through ahead of you, with nary a lapse in the chat.
So, with the revolving door, do you let the lady go first? Forcing her to strain against the unyielding glass with her frail ladylike little arms?
Or do you tread on her toes in eagerness to precede her, take on the muscle-work yourself, get the door moving, and hope she’s following in the cell behind?
Either way, it leads to an irritating break in the conversation. “So, what I’m trying to propose…WHIFFLE WHIFFLE WHIFFLE WHIFFLE WHIFFLE…with another chick, a four-foot length of garden hose, and an ourang-outang.”
Please give me the correct answer, as I hope someday to meet a lady.
Well, according to a business etiquette quiz I took once (and my boss passed 25 for 25) the host (or in your question, the man) should go first. This allows the host to do all the pushing. If you do it right (pushing until your cell is about to go around again, and then giving it an extra shove) your visitor (or the woman) will never need to touch the door.
The last building I worked in (420 Montgomery in San Francisco) had what felt like the world’s smallest revolving door. You could not fit two people in one cell and you still had to shuffle.
I did that at the Metrodome while I was waiting for a monster truck show to start. There was, I think, two sets of revolving doors and like six regular doors, so it’s not like I was blocking “traffic” anyway. They called security and almost had my tickets taken away. Hehehe… I did the same thing on my way out.
What drives me crazy is when a person enters a revolving door and doesn’t push at all making the person entering behind them do all the work. This happens to me at my office building all the time, where the revolving doors are really hard to push. So some macho dude gets into the door in front of me and just stands there while little 5’2" me, with one free hand (the other’s holding coffee) tries to push the damn door for the two of us. I really hate that. If the door wasn’t so hard to push, I’d push it so fast the idiot wouldn’t be able to get out at all.
