Boymeat (boymeat) wrote,

  • Mood:

Going postal.

I have many stresses in life, lord knows. Probably a little more than many, less than some, the same amount as a lot. Despite all these heavy balls and chain devices that I drag about here and there, I manage to stay relatively calm and level-headed.

There is one thing, however... one thing that I fear will make me snap.

The subway stop where I exit for work has three revolving doors/cages. Those are the only way to get on or off the subway on the south end of the platform. For the out of towners, they look something like this:

Well, they look like that without a bike crammed inside it.

Anyway... on either side of the three revolving cages are emergency exit doors. The kind that emit a shrieking melody of emergency song. The song is loud, the song is never ending, the song is annoying as all fucking hell.

Every morning, and I do mean every morning, the southern most emergency door is thrown open by someone who cannot bear using the revolving door. OK, maybe there is a little bottleneck at times at the doors, but really, how long does it take to go through it? But no... they throw open the door, giving my left ear a nice blast of sheer annoyance.

Not 30 seconds later, the right door is thrown open. The wail coming from that door is for some reason louder, and thus, more annoying. Grating in fact.

The end result? No one uses the revolving doors. Instead, the bottleneck has now relocated to the emergency doors, filled with people waiting to go through the door unencumbered with having to push the revolving door a few feet to exit. And the songs go on and on and on and on... seemingly growing louder and louder and louder and louder...

Oh, and me cursing internally because of my morning emergency exit song wake-up call.

At first, I would fantasize about being a cop, waiting on the other side of those doors. I would wait there, like a hunter silently stalking his prey. As soon as the first jackass threw open the emergency door when clearly the only emergency was their own impatience - I would nail him. Write him/her up right then and there with a nice fat citation. Mmmmm... that would be so much fun.

But after a year of this symphony of madness, I am close to losing it. Now, I fantasize about being The Punisher, waiting there with my gun in hand. And the very moment the emergency door swings open, I blast the sucka. Wanna give me a headache every morning? Ooops... so sorry, looks like you have the headache now. Bwa-ha-ha-ha!!!

Yeah, I think I should go back to drinking my coffee now. Thanks for listening.

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