This morning a really friendly middle-aged lady who works in my building got here around the same time I did. She came in the same entrance a little before I did and she pressed the button, you know, the one for people in wheelchairs, so that the two doors would open automatically.
She said "I just had my nails done so I can't open doors!"
At the elevators, she pressed the button and stood there with her hands splayed, examining her hot-pink fingernails (I really wish I knew an alternative, awesome word for nails right now) and saying again "I just had my nails done. They're still a little . . . tacky." I think she meant that they were tacky in the sense that they were sticky. But I agreed they were tacky. In the sense of, this woman has a complete lack of good breeding (merriam-webster.com consultation).
But guys, she was friendly. Here she is chatting me up about her nails and she warned me in the elevator that it's slated to snow today, and said good morning when she was walking in the doors to the building, and "have a good day" when she got off the elevator before me (on the third floor). She also told me about how she was relieved her tights were the right color to coordinate with her outfit because she's grabbed the wrong ones before.
But all I could think about her was things like "I wonder if she'll be incapacitated at work today because of her nails," and "Did she go get her nails done at 6 this morning?" and "Ridiculous." I was judging her harshly.
Here's the kicker, though: I totally use that automatic door opening button when I walk into work. I don't even have a good excuse like this woman does. I'm just WAY lazy.
4 comments:
Genius. I use the automatic door every morning I go in that entrance, mostly because having doors open in front of me makes me feel either like an all-powerful emperor or a Jedi, depending on my mood. This morning it was an all-powerful emperor. So I guess that means "watch out."
p.s., (I know, I'm doing this a lot) I thought you and she might have had a little kumbaya moment after your scorn and then she painted your nails hot pink to match with a spare bottle she keeps in her desk or something. I'm a little disappointed that that did not, in fact, happen. You should work on that.
You write about your life so as to make it seem so captivating...I wish my life were as captivating as yours and I wish I knew if I was supposed to use were or was up there, but I don't.
After this stunning realization, you now have the perfect response for those people who give you awkward looks when you push the handi button. Just announce, "I'm lazy." That'll learn 'em.
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