Imagine...you’re a good person, you go about your day innocently going about your business. And at the end of your work day, leaving the office after a good honest day’s work you take the revolving door, because there is a sign on the regular door that asks you to please take the revolving one. And although you aren’t accustomed to doing whatever you see plastered above a door you feel that this is a minor favor to ask and decide to comply. While in the revolving door you feel, a jolt…the door stops moving. And while only mildly startled you turn around to see what has stopped the door is a toothless broad, I mean woman, wearing a fur coat in July, in the same revolving compartment as yourself.
No, I’m not talking about the same revolving apparatus, I’m talking about the same effing cramped space as yourself. Looking at you with her toothless grin like some loveable Disney or Pixar character. Toy Story is still my favorite in terms of all around feel good movie, Shrek was funnier though. And Monsters was just adorable, but anyway, just how close? Let’s just say, all up on your back. Breathing the same air as you, only George Clooney knows how much air is in there anyway, and I estimate there can’t be more than forty cubic feet. The crazies have taken it a step too far. What step is that? The step that led that woman into the same compartment as my sister, whom I may not particularly like but that’s fam, and I can’t help but get angry that she was victimized in that way.
Revolving doors are scary enough as it is. It’s not enough you have to be a professional double dutch player to time the opening just right if the door is already moving. But now you have to watch who might be following you inside? Revolving door compartments are designed for one person anyway. You don’t need to be a rocket scientist to ascertain it would be difficult for two people to walk comfortably in one. You will never be in such a rush where cramming yourself into a revolving door compartment with another human being is necessary. I haven’t researched it myself, but I estimate the wait for the next compartment would be a wait time somewhere between zero and five seconds. The fear that my poor sibling must have felt as she turned to see a toothless, fur coat wearing woman brings tears to my eyes. Mostly of laughter but that fact is so far beside the point, that if the point was a golf course, that fact is out of bounds.
We’re not dealing with babies here. If a baby somehow managed to stumble into the same revolving compartment as myself I would be just as pissed, and maybe kick it, but at least I can see it’s a dumb baby that doesn’t know any better. It probably thought the revolving door was its mommy or some other type of nonsense babies think, if they do indeed think at all. I’m getting sidetracked here but I’m sure you catch my drift. Like if my point was just drifting by you, you could catch the faint aroma of my point on the tip of your nostrils as it lazily makes its way by. At the very least you can pick up the baby and sell it on ebay. Homeless people don’t have the same economic value as babies. Ok...I’m off babies.
I’m just saying having it be a homeless person is the worst luck. And let’s not forget having the homeless person stop the revolutions (act of revolving) of the revolving door is only part of the problem. Now you gotta get the door revolving again and get out, and that is going to require teamwork and a clear head. Something the homeless person who mindlessly followed you into a revolving door clearly (see what I did there?) does not have. What I’m really trying to say is it is just gross… regardless if it involves a homeless person or not. I mean, the fact that it does involve a homeless person makes it about a thousand times worse. But “two girls and a revolving door” sounds like the kind of porn I’m not trying to watch.
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