I’m capable of opening doors.
I’m not trying to be ungrateful, but sometimes when someone holds a door open for me it becomes a piercing pain in my ass.
I don’t know if you all (not ya’ll, you all) know this about me, but I’m pretty much 100% sedentary. I do nothing. Sometimes I’ll walk downstairs from my bedroom to get water, but generally, no.
That said, you’d think I would really like people to do things for me. A lot of the time I do, unless that favor turns into more work, in which case fuck that.
It’s kind of like when a little kid wants to help you with something, like doing your job, and you’re just like, “WTF, you totally effed up my status report! Now it’s going to take me twice as long to fix all your mistakes and do it correctly.” That’s how I feel when people open doors for me, at least when they do it when I’m about 300 feet away.
I get it—I’m super tall and so you can see me coming from a mile away and you’re like, “Shit, that’s going to be awesome when it gets here. Better wait for it.” Kind of like next season of 30 Rock. But c’mon, I’m not going to sit in front of the TV tuned to NBC for another [insert number of months here because I’m too lazy to look it up] months waiting for it to happen, even if Tina Fey would really appreciate it (which she totally would).
Today, for example, I was walking into my office and this supes awkward Indian guy was holding the door open for me. I think he thought I was a princess or something—maybe Jasmine (which would be stupid though because my eyes aren’t half the size of my head and I didn’t even bring my tiger to work today).
So ok, he’s holding the door open and staring me down. Like right into my eyes. I think he was putting a Slumdog Millionaire curse on me, which is so not cool unless it somehow gets me on Who Wants to Be A Millionare?, in which case that’s awesome. But he’s just standing there holding the door, and it’s so awkward, so clearly I have to start running.
What. The. Fuck. I don’t run, you guys. It’s just not something that I do. But this fucker with his “chivalry” is making me run. Fuck The Biggest Loser, that show is so unnecessary. Just hold doors open for fat people and make them run. Solution to America’s obesity problem, right there.
And of course, I run to the door and say thank you and, of course, the creepy expression on his face does not change, so now I’m convinced that I’m cursed.
This is the worst day ever.