Before I came to College, I watched a funny Youtube video
where this guy would hold doors open for people very far away, and then wait for
them. At the time, I laughed hysterically at those people who would do that
awkward run-walk-skip-shuffle thing to get to the door quicker. How silly they
looked, I said. Watch their expressions of panic, I jeered.
Well , you know what they say about Karma.
See, there is a little issue at BYU (no, I’m not talking about
how most of the cute guys are married). Everyone is incredibly polite. And
because of our conditioning, holding the door open for someone is a knee jerk
reaction, as inescapable as smiling back at someone.
What I’m trying to say is that I have become one of those
awkward running-shuffling-skipping people, that just a couple months ago I mocked.
And I’m painfully aware of it. It’s become of those grit
your teeth and bear it moments for me. Each time I tell myself I won’t alter my pace, and I definitely won’t say in a much higher, breathless tone, “thank you,” I will be stoic.
In reality, I turn into one of Pavlov’s dogs. When I see a
person holding the door, I can’t help but think of how I don’t want to make
them late to anything, and how nice (but unnecessary) it was for them to keep
it open, and before you know it, my legs clumsily move forward, stuck in an
indecisive cross of speed walking and jogging, and that stupid greeting bursts
out of me, and then the poor fellow is forced to grunt in reply.
For some reason, I’ve had other weird dealings with the
doors on campus. One time I bumped the Library door with my hip to get it open,
and somehow got stuck squirming under its weight, pressed against the frame,
and luckily, some poor guy came and freed me before I started panicking. I
honestly think he just got annoyed with me trying to wiggle my way through the passage
way.
Several times in a particular building, I’ve been hit or
nearly hit by swinging doors at class change, and in addition to the startling impact,
have been forced to swim upstream like a salmon against the flood of people spewing
forth.
The literary being in me can’t help but see these unfortunate
experiences with doors as some type of metaphor for my current phase in life. But,
as the interpretation hints at being sad, I think I’m just going to continue to
blame them on my mocking of those poor people
on YouTube.
Moral(s) )of the Story
-Think twice before you make fun of others.
-Use your hands, not your hips when opening heavy doors.
-Sometimes its better to not think about the metaphorical context of things.
-Before getting your hopes up, always check the fourth finger, of the left hand of an attractive guy.
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