Thoughts from the Doorman
Today I’m coming to you LIVE from a particularly dark recess of the Abyss. As such I’ll expend extra effort to infuse my writings with vileness and contemptability (a word I just invented).
I may have mentioned the first incident in this post before. If so, I apologize.
On a day that was dark and dreary shortly before our last Christmas, I was compelled by the will of my employer to visit the local post office on a matter of some urgency. (Some of our bullshit products were needed overnight. It’s true. Some people just can’t wait for our useless crap.)
After an interminable period of time in that postal center that can only be termed as “hell” my business was finally concluded and I was exiting the building. To do so one is forced to traverse a formidable pair of large and heavy doors. I was walking behind a comely lass who was carrying an infant in one of those car seats that converts into a basket with a handle.
A gent in front of the lass exited first and with nary a glance behind, let that heavy door swing back hard in the direction of the young mother. WHAMM! The door hit that woman and stopped her dead in her tracks.
What a motherfucker! I thought to myself.
More recently I was back in that building again. This time I was coming up the steps, still outside the building and about to enter. I pulled open the door and saw two people coming my way. I stepped aside and held the door open so they could pass.
It was then that something fairly extraordinary happened.
The woman stopped in the doorway, turned to me, and with breathless excitement exclaimed, “Thank you! Thank you so very very much!”
No, I’m not embellishing that at all. The moment was spectacular because of the sheer look of amazement on her face. She was literally stunned that one human would do that for another. The moment really shocked me. Have we become such a society of assholes that the mere act of rendering such a trivial moment of courtesy should be hailed as such a noteworthy event?
I always hold doors open for people (not just women) because I believe it is the right thing to do. When people do it for me I always say, “thank you.” To be honest, most of the time people stroll through and never say thanks or even give me a glance, as if I’m their personal doorman. The mere fact that this woman thanked me at all was remarkable in and of itself.
So that’s today’s story. Hopefully it provides a little grist for the mill. I know I find my thoughts returning to these events time and time again. No matter how much I think about it, though, I don’t know how to restore to our country what has been lost. Simple manners, politeness and etiquette. I can’t imagine any possible solution that would work. We are truly the “me” generation.