Sliding doors

[ladyofastolat]

Today's entirely-unimportant-in-the-scheme-of-things rant subject is automatic doors. More specifically, it's lazy automatic doors that perform their duty but slowly and too late. So there you are, brisk shopper, striding purposefully towards the door. (I always stride purposefully, even if my brain hasn't yet clarified what the purpose actually is. For example, on Thursday I strode purposely into M&S with the purpose of filling a bag with tomato and basil soup and nothing else. Fifteen minutes later, I strode purposefully out again, with a bag full of two pairs of trousers, two bras, 9 tins of soup and a packet of tomatoes, with the purpose of getting out again quick before I ended up buying a kitchen sink.) So, striding purposefully, you near the automatic door, confident that it will part before you and let you through without any check in your gait.

Then, with a few steps to go, you have this horrible realisation that it is not opening. It's doubtless standing there, idling, cigarette in hand, chatting about the pretty girls who have passed through its embrace. Your step falters, but you don't actually stop outright, because automatic doors always open, don't they, and SURELY this one will do so, too. Glass looms large in your vision, and you know that you're going to have to do a full-on emergency stop to save your nose from being squashed. Then, just at the last minute, the door realises you're there, throws away its cigarette, and sloooowly, idly, drifts the doors open with bored ungraciousness, and you can resume your purposeful striding and hope that nobody has noticed that, A, you have almost walked into a door, or, B, you have almost tripped over your own feet as you fought the conflicting urges of "must stop now!" and "carry on; it's bound to be okay."

I could blame the fact that I stride too fast for door technology to cope with. After all, when out walking, I've had random strangers berate me for walking too fast. (It's quite odd. If I'd been tailgating them on narrow paths, I'd understand, but it's people in cottage gardens that I pass, or people yards away on open hillsides who feel the need to tell me off for daring to having different tastes in country walking than they have.) But then there's the other sort of automatic door: the automatic door who is young, new on the job, and very very keen. Approach within ten paces, and the door will leap open, and stand there quivering with the joy of obedience, waiting for you to pat it on their head and tell it that it's been a very good boy. Stand and dither over tomatoes on the fruit and veg section near the door, and it's goes into a positive frenzy of opening and shutting, causing you to look anxiously around for the security guards in case they think you're trying to do a runner with a basket of veg.

Then there are those doors that have a very rigid mind and can only cope with one order at a time. Person A approaches it, and the door parts to let them through. The door then slowly drifts shut again, just as Person B is approaching it. However, the door is concentrating on its "Close now!" order with all its might, and needs to complete this order before it raises its head to look out for new customers. This doesn't normally end well for Person B. The door in our local shop sometimes gets like this. I haven't quite got squashed yet, but it's been a close-run thing.

Actually, come to think it is, it all comes down to magic. When approaching doors, I have a habit of putting my hands together and parting them in a magical way while saying "whoosh" under my breath, so I can pretend that I'm commanding them open with my awesome magic power. However, I only do this accompanied by Pellinor, since there's a limit to how silly I'm prepared to appear in public. However, thinking back, all the problems I've had with lazy or stupid or over-reactive doors have happened when I've been alone and have therefore failed to do the magic hand movements... Hmm... I think the clues are all coming together here, and forcing me to come up with only one conclusion...

Comments

[wellinghall.livejournal.com]

"Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from a completely ad-hoc plot device"
— David Langford, "A Gadget Too Far"

[learnsslowly.livejournal.com]

I love that.

[wellinghall.livejournal.com]

Mm, me too :-)

[puddleshark.livejournal.com]

The sliding door at work is of the slow persuasion - I often end up jumping up and down in front of it, waiting for it to acknowledge my presence... I shall have to try the gesturing/magic word thing.

[beckyc.livejournal.com]

Yup clearly you've got to do the hand thing all the time. Might be tricky with bags though

I only walk around 3-3.5 mph so I do not get strangers or doors telling me off, but I do get people I know asking me why I'm in a hurry (which is clearly silly because that's not that fast). I conclude that people are confusing, and walking at a comfortable pace is good.

[learnsslowly.livejournal.com]

I get the told off for walking too fast thing too. It used to happen more when I was younger. (And more often from older people.) The offence seemed to be that they didn't want to SEE someone walking faster than they wished them to. Of course now there are fewer people older than me than there were 30 years ago ...

[ladyofastolat.livejournal.com]

I really don't understand why I get this so much. Often it seems to be a case of people having strong opinions about how a leisure activity should be done, and feeling the need to berate others for Doing It Wrong. I've been berated for walking too fast to appreciate the scenery (I actually appreciate it a lot) or for failing to pay due attention to the wild flowers (I was noticing them quite happily.) People go on walks for a variety of reasons, but some people can only accept their own reasons as valid ones.

[leesa_perrie]

Then there's the ones that don't open unless you press the button (sometimes the button is on the wall a couple of feet before the door, just to confuse you further - well, there's at least one I can think of like that)!! I get the reason for them (so they're not opening everytime a person passes the store), but that doesn't mean I haven't been caught out by them!

Though interesting fact: if one of these doors is open and there's one or more ordinary you have to push/pull them doors next to them (like entering a shopping centre, for example), you can pretty much guarantee there are people waiting to use the open door, even though there's several someone's coming through it in the opposite direction! Often I've used the manual door and been out/inside before them!! :D

[king-pellinor.livejournal.com]

I find a similar thing with double doors. A great crowd of people are trying to get through the open leaf, and you walk up, push the other one open, and get out straight away - leading a crowd of eager followers who hadn't realised what the word "Push" meant... :-)

[leesa_perrie]

Oh yes, double doors have the same effect! Still, it's one way to get followers, lol! :D

[ladyofastolat.livejournal.com]

Getting out of primary schools can be sometimes feel more like breaking out a prison. They all have those "press button to open" doors, but they generally put the button somewhere high up, out of the children's reach, or miles away from the door - presumably so they can pounce on escapees before they reach the great outdoors. They're often near a very similar-looking emergency-override buttons, which must never be pressed except in case of fire. I tend to just stand there looking plaintive until someone (often a passing 7 year old) tells me how to escape.

[leesa_perrie]

LOL! That reminds me of the button at the nursing home that hubby's great aunt is in. The button looks very much like a normal doorbell button, but inside and high up. Fortunately it's next to the door, and once you realise what it is, is easy to reach. However, pressing the button doesn't open the door unless you keep your hand on the button as you open the door! Oh yes, that's confused quite a few people, myself included!! :D

Still, at least we don't have Hitchhiker's doors, that thank you for using them!! :D

Though we do have talking lifts. Not that any of them have said that 'down is very nice' - at least, not yet! :D :D

[songblaze.livejournal.com]

As someone whose disability makes opening doors somewhere between a nuisance and a guaranteed injury, it annoys me ever so much when people do the pile-up at the only accessible door. Did they really not notice the 6 other, perfectly functional doors? Likewise for when apparently able-bodied women choose the only accessible stall instead of the dozen of normal ones. I do promise you that believe it or not, your ego will fit just fine! I also hate - really and truly hate - when the designer of the bathroom sticks the diaper change table in the one and only accessible stall. I mean, how's this for a great idea - let's take two groups that are going to take longer than the average most of the time, and let's make them compete for the same space. But wait, there's more - in addition to competing with each other, they'll also be dealing with random people who don't actually need that bigger stall, but just 'feel more comfortable' when they take up spaces other people need.

[leesa_perrie]

Must be incredibly frustrating! People can be very self-centred *hugs*

[songblaze.livejournal.com]

Thank you. It certainly can be. I can sometimes manage without the grab bars, but it is virtually impossible to fit my service dog in a stall with me, except for the rare places where the doors swing out (and even then, it's unpleasant - he's a 65lb dog, and both relatively long and relatively tall for his weight). So my options, if I really have to go and someone is using the only accessible stall, are to either hope I don't pee myself waiting, or to leave my dog outside of the stall. I really, really hate doing the latter because of animal rights extremists. I know a fellow service dog partner who did that and midway through going to the bathroom, her leash clunked down onto the ground...because an animal rights extremist was taking all of her dog's gear off and trying to take the dog away. Since hearing about that, I have to be truly desperate to leave my dog outside of the stall.

With doors, the thing that used to make me want to cry before I got my service dog was when someone a few feet in front of me let the door that pulled open close in my face. On bad days before the dog, I couldn't open the door myself, so I'd be stuck there waiting until some other person had to go in or out, because if I opened the door myself, I'd risk dislocating my shoulder or my wrist. I just felt so invisible and so trapped. Fortunately, now the dog can pull or push doors open for me. (The downside is that now instead of being invisible, I'm stared at as if I was a walking three-ring circus.)

[(Anonymous)]

I'm no longer a particularly fast walker, but I have the same problem with automatic doors. I like your magic trick. Maybe it will work for me, too.

[siglinde99.livejournal.com]

I'm no longer a fast walker, but I have the same problem with automatic doors. I'm pretty sure they are sentient and a bit evil. I like your magic trick; I think I'll try it.

[lindahoyland.livejournal.com]

You have to walk up and down in a specific spot in my local shop sometimes to get the doors to open and I'm the slowest walker you can imagine.

[melchar.livejournal.com]

I agree with your conclusion. You need to do the hand waiving to get the attention of the doors you seek to pass thru.