Wednesday, February 2, 2011

A Small Rant on Etiquette

Dear Fat Man in the Revolving Door,

I couldn't help but notice today that you seemed to set yourself the task of getting all the way round the aforementioned revolving door this morning without touching the handle. At first I could only assume you were being careful about germs but then I noticed you sneezed long and hard into the wide blue yonder without need of a tissue and without worry at wiping the protruding green slime on the back of your hand. It was at this point that the idea settled in my mind that perhaps you are a tad lazy? Could that have been your motive?

I don't know if you'll remember me, I am a small brunette thing who happened this morning to be your doorman. I weigh about 8st (your leg) and have the upper body strength of an anaemic shrew. Nevertheless I managed to get us both through the atrium safely (ish). I haven't received your note of thanks yet but I can assume this is because you have failed to enter a building with note paper due to your extreme laziness. If you like, we can petition David Cameron for a nation of automatic doors so that we can scrap these 'arm' things all together and only use them for their primary purpose of stuffing more cake into our faces.

Perhaps you were tired, and/or, had skipped breakfast in your hurry to get to your all important 'I work in a sky scraper in an ugly suit' job? Could this be the reason for your shirking of door based responsibility? I think it might be worth pointing out to you that the effort of pushing the door to get everyone through it will use up a minimal amount of the precious calories you pump into your body. I think it's safe to assume the grease from the KFC on your fingers of a weekend would be enough to power that little push.

That's the beauty of the revolving door, you see? It's a team effort. I realise you may have a slight issue with concepts such as this - perhaps Communism really freaked the shit out of you too? But, I think that it's something you might need to open your mind to. If we all push the door together it does mean I don't get out of breath and I don't start an ill advised rant in my (usually chirpy) blog to a walrus in a suit with a mobile phone glued to his lard encased ear.

Please don't think I'm being cruel to you because you are a larger gent. I am being cruel to you because you're a lazy, egotistical, self-involved twat who shows in small acts like this morning that you think everyone else on the planet should be helping things run smoother for you. How long have you been a Tory?

Now, you may have noticed this morning that the glass door collided with you at an alarming pace. This was part of your education that if you leave a spiteful young woman to haul your carcass through the spinning wonder mechanism, she may well stop pushing and exert an action we call 'pull'. If she pulls the door, it won't get forward anymore, it will go backward. If you are still tumbling through space in the same motion, oblivious to the expletives being uttered in the compartment behind you, you will find your jowels pasted across the carefully polished Canary Wharf glass.

You probably didn't like that part of your morning very much. I did. I enjoyed it immensely but you might not have noticed that because my 'Oh shit, I'm so sorry I didn't realise you weren't pushing did that happen?!' face was so convincing. At that point, it would have been nice if you'd helped me get the door going again, and you're lucky I was running late or we might still be in those tiny glass prisons and I would be writing this letter in my own blood on the partition between us and possibly inspiring the next Danny Boyle film.

You didn't help did you? You probably just explained to the person on the phone (Ronald McDonald? Jeremy Clarkson? Any other twat?) that a girl behind you seemed to have motor troubles and was causing a nuisance to your day. Perhaps you commented that I may be pre-menstrual and/or poor. Aren't those the causes of most of the world's discontent in 'other' people?

So, I've taken the time out of my day so far to smack you with a door and write you a (fairly polite) letter explaining my actions. I hope I have some impact on you and that tomorrow you find the inner strength to embrace your social conscience and help us all work together to go through doors, sort out carbon emissions and be less of a dick to each other.

Kind Regards,
Venomous Little Cow Who Fucking Hates People Who Don't Push Revolving Doors

1 comment:

  1. Bahahaha "walrus in a suit" - best description I've seen of these f**ktard excuses for a human being. How they retain a shred dignity in the mirror, with that shit-eating grin, whilst cladding their oh-so-slightly porky figure in the abomination that is the all-in-one pinstripe suit is beyond me.

    We can fantasize about smashing the plonker with the door... but then we'd have to face the grotesque spectacle of said fat man clogging up the revolving mechanism like an artery that's seen too much KFC