revolving doors 101

Ah, revolving doors. Like elevators and escalators, revolving doors were a certain silly luxury that just wasn't around when I was growing up in smalltucky, MA. My sister was 19 before she finally stopped going "Ooooh! Escalator!" and running over to jump on a moving staircase. As such, I know that not everyone uses these devices every day, and that at first glance they can be quite confusing. But I believe wholeheartedly that they share this in common: GET OUT OF THE WAY.

Rule #1: KEEP MOVING.

A couple of weeks ago, I went to the bank with my friend Carrie. The only entrance to the ATM vestibule is through a revolving door. So I let some Giant Man go first, then myself, then Carrie behind me. Problem was, the Giant Man got out the other side and promptly stopped, standing in the exact spot that I was about to be dumped. My options were to a) do another lap around, and perhaps another, until the Giant Idiot Man got out of the way, or b) step out anyway, and shove his Giant Idiot Ass into a wall, hopefully head first.

Fortunately, I didn't have to do either. I managed to pop out behind him and sort of slink off somehow, wondering like I did all those days going 85mph on 128 how I survived such a near miss. Carrie stumbled out behind me as well, and we both gave the expected Disgusted Grunt and Sigh that another human being could be such a freaking idiot.

Rule #2: NO OVERSIZED OBJECTS.

My office also has revolving doors--three of them. The fact that there are three matters to me because far too often, a line of people develops outside the middle door, each waiting their turn on the wheel, when 10 feet to their left or right sits another door, completely idle.

A few days ago, I was leaving my office when I noticed a funny little man carrying lots of giant heavy bags. He was approaching the revolving door just ahead of me, and I wondered how this would be physically possible, and almost dared not enter the door behind him. The funny little man turned out to be Al Franken (no joke), and sure as the sun shines, as soon as I got into the wheel behind him, his bag smashed into a wall and nearly choked up the whole rotation. He clumsily shuffled his way through to the other side, and I just laughed and shook my head.

All the time people are trying to shuffle through the door with suitcases, boxes, strollers, crutches, etc. This really doesn't work. An ounce of common sense might point you in the right direction, such as the normal swinging door to your left. You can't push a revolving door if your hands are full. It's that simple.

Rule #3: NO CHANGING YOUR MIND.

This rule also relates to high-speed highway driving. I don't care WHAT you do as long as you commit to it. Don't change your mind at the last minute and change lanes, or take an exit, or, well...

Tonight I was leaving work. In front of me, a man. Behind him, his 8-year-old son. Then me, then another man behind me. First Dad went through, then Junior. Then I entered the wheel. Junior thought he'd be cute, and instead of getting out on the other side, he kept going for another lap. (Much like my sister would have done when she was...well, yesterday.)

The man behind me got in the rotation, and as we all took our next step forward, Junior decided he wanted out. Not realizing the door would KEEP ON MOVING, he turned around and extended one arm out, which I knew would be ripped off in a bloody screaming dismemberment accident if I took another step. The boy, realizing his folly, saw me in the glass pane behind him and panicked, which was good only because it caused him to recoil his outstretched arm. The door smashed into him, sending him hurling in his little 1/4 of the cylinder, causing it to slow suddenly, which then caused it to then hit me and the man behind me in a clumsy domino fashion. Being adults, we regained our sense of rhythm and I popped out the other side, followed by the man, then the boy, whose father was now 30 feet away and completely unaware that his child almost lost a limb OR suffered a heinous beating by some girl who just got whacked by the revolving door.

I glared at the kid, then caught the eye of my companion who said, quite wisely, "Fucking kid." I threw my bag back on my shoulder and headed for the subway. One of these days, I tell you. One of these days...