Why not just put myself totally out there and let you all know how much of a freak I truly am…in case you didn’t already know. I have a couple of completely irrational and embarrassing fears around my office that I think it’s time to share in the hopes that sharing will lead to healing, or something like that. So, here goes…please, no making fun as this is 100% serious business.
Irrational Office Fear #1 – The Double-Sized Revolving Doors
Every single day I have to face this fear as I walk into my building to start my grueling day at the office. Am I greeted with sunshine, coffee and a smile? Nope. Instead, I’m greeted with the glass-and-steel, steam-rolling death trap daring me to walk into it’s oxygen sucking hell sections that will jostle me around until it’s ready to spit me out into the building where it will then sit and wait until I’m ready to head home so it can torment me once more before I leave. I hate it. Hate it! So maybe I’m exaggerating a bit but the thing truly frightens me on a daily basis. My fear comes into play when there is a line of people ready to go in or out of the doors. See, these special doors ‘o death are double (maybe even triple?!?) sized so that more than one person can fit into each section bringing more people into and out of the building at a time. Nice thought, eh? Oh, and did I mention it’s also automatic?!? Well, I think this particular door can smell my fear and somehow conspires with my fellow co-workers to make sure I am ALWAYS the second person to walk into the door. Being the second person in a revolving door section is terrifying! You’re totally at the mercy of the person in front of you that they will walk at the appropriate pace and, god willing, walk close enough to the front of the section so you have room to walk “comfortably” behind them. Chances are you’re most likely behind some inconsiderate, fearless a-hole that takes their sweet time causing you to shuffle your feet, snuggle up to their backside and look over your shoulder every half second to make sure you’re not about to be plowed by the glass door. What if the bottom of the door catches your pant leg and drags you down to the ground and you get flattened? Or, your pant leg gets trapped locking up the entire revolving mechanism and you get trapped waiting for help and suffocate to death while everyone watches because the whole thing is made out of glass? Agh! So, that takes care of the first portion of the “ride” where my life flashes before my eyes…now, on to what I like to call the “dismount”. After you’ve “safely” made it through the rotation and it’s time to finally get out of the glass torture chamber, guess what’s next? Oh yeah…clearing the door before it catches your ankle and traps you again. Or, maybe you don’t even get your body completely out and it slices you in half? Luckily I have devised a special skip-and-hop move I have perfected over the past year or so that successfully launches me out into the safety of the building without the door devouring one of my precious limbs, or the precious left side of my body. Thank god I was a gymnast. One time I made the mistake of walking through the door while talking on my cell phone, got totally disoriented and ended up smacking right into the glass because I tried to get out before the section opened to the outside. Then, panicked, I had to re-orient myself in time to get out safely, all the while my co-workers are looking on laughing. If they only knew my fear I think they would be a little more compassionate.
Gonna stop hanging out with me yet?
Irrational Office Fear #2 – The16th Floor High Powered Vending Machine
After the trauma of the revolving door, I am typically a little parched when I finally make it up to my office so I innocently head on over to the vending machine for an ice-cold Dasani. Easy, right? Nope. Again, something so simple and harmless-looking ends up bringing fear to my already tortured day. I’ve actually thought about this fear a lot and come to the conclusion that I am not afraid of all vending machines, just this one. Because I work where I do, we don’t have your regular, run-of-the-mill vending machine. We have several different kinds including a really cool one that you can see grab the drink you choose, run it down the little conveyor belt and then drop it in the hole. If only the 16th Floor had this kind of vending machine. *Sigh* Instead, we have the most violent machine created that sends your beverage careening down the chute at lightening speed with the hopes of chopping your hand off. I swear there is something comparable to a torpedo launcher that shoots your drink out. This wouldn’t be much of a problem if I wasn’t such an impatient person and liked to try and time my reach so that my hand is able to grasp my drink as soon as it falls. Hmm…lightning fast torpedo beverage + sweet beautiful soft delicate hand = major injuries & potential lifelong scarring. I have yet to find a special move to protect me from the machine other than distracting myself as much as possible so I’m late with my grab. Total panic ensues when for some reason the evil machine decides to spit two drinks out for no reason. So, even though I was nice and patient and waited until my drink was all the way at the bottom before grabbing, it shoots another one out at me just to keep me on my toes. What have I done to deserve this treatment??
I won’t go any further today but believe me, there are others. Electronic staplers (think jack-in-the-box), paper shredders, electronic hole punches, elevators, ESCALATORS (“Listen, not a year goes by, not a year, that I don't hear about some escalator accident involving some bastard kid which could have easily been avoided had some parent - I don't care which one - but some parent conditioned him to fear and respect that escalator.”)…the list goes on and on.
To make me feel a little better about myself, please feel free to share your work-related fears. As I said above, sharing leads to healing…or something like that.
Irrational Office Fear #1 – The Double-Sized Revolving Doors
Every single day I have to face this fear as I walk into my building to start my grueling day at the office. Am I greeted with sunshine, coffee and a smile? Nope. Instead, I’m greeted with the glass-and-steel, steam-rolling death trap daring me to walk into it’s oxygen sucking hell sections that will jostle me around until it’s ready to spit me out into the building where it will then sit and wait until I’m ready to head home so it can torment me once more before I leave. I hate it. Hate it! So maybe I’m exaggerating a bit but the thing truly frightens me on a daily basis. My fear comes into play when there is a line of people ready to go in or out of the doors. See, these special doors ‘o death are double (maybe even triple?!?) sized so that more than one person can fit into each section bringing more people into and out of the building at a time. Nice thought, eh? Oh, and did I mention it’s also automatic?!? Well, I think this particular door can smell my fear and somehow conspires with my fellow co-workers to make sure I am ALWAYS the second person to walk into the door. Being the second person in a revolving door section is terrifying! You’re totally at the mercy of the person in front of you that they will walk at the appropriate pace and, god willing, walk close enough to the front of the section so you have room to walk “comfortably” behind them. Chances are you’re most likely behind some inconsiderate, fearless a-hole that takes their sweet time causing you to shuffle your feet, snuggle up to their backside and look over your shoulder every half second to make sure you’re not about to be plowed by the glass door. What if the bottom of the door catches your pant leg and drags you down to the ground and you get flattened? Or, your pant leg gets trapped locking up the entire revolving mechanism and you get trapped waiting for help and suffocate to death while everyone watches because the whole thing is made out of glass? Agh! So, that takes care of the first portion of the “ride” where my life flashes before my eyes…now, on to what I like to call the “dismount”. After you’ve “safely” made it through the rotation and it’s time to finally get out of the glass torture chamber, guess what’s next? Oh yeah…clearing the door before it catches your ankle and traps you again. Or, maybe you don’t even get your body completely out and it slices you in half? Luckily I have devised a special skip-and-hop move I have perfected over the past year or so that successfully launches me out into the safety of the building without the door devouring one of my precious limbs, or the precious left side of my body. Thank god I was a gymnast. One time I made the mistake of walking through the door while talking on my cell phone, got totally disoriented and ended up smacking right into the glass because I tried to get out before the section opened to the outside. Then, panicked, I had to re-orient myself in time to get out safely, all the while my co-workers are looking on laughing. If they only knew my fear I think they would be a little more compassionate.
Gonna stop hanging out with me yet?
Irrational Office Fear #2 – The16th Floor High Powered Vending Machine
After the trauma of the revolving door, I am typically a little parched when I finally make it up to my office so I innocently head on over to the vending machine for an ice-cold Dasani. Easy, right? Nope. Again, something so simple and harmless-looking ends up bringing fear to my already tortured day. I’ve actually thought about this fear a lot and come to the conclusion that I am not afraid of all vending machines, just this one. Because I work where I do, we don’t have your regular, run-of-the-mill vending machine. We have several different kinds including a really cool one that you can see grab the drink you choose, run it down the little conveyor belt and then drop it in the hole. If only the 16th Floor had this kind of vending machine. *Sigh* Instead, we have the most violent machine created that sends your beverage careening down the chute at lightening speed with the hopes of chopping your hand off. I swear there is something comparable to a torpedo launcher that shoots your drink out. This wouldn’t be much of a problem if I wasn’t such an impatient person and liked to try and time my reach so that my hand is able to grasp my drink as soon as it falls. Hmm…lightning fast torpedo beverage + sweet beautiful soft delicate hand = major injuries & potential lifelong scarring. I have yet to find a special move to protect me from the machine other than distracting myself as much as possible so I’m late with my grab. Total panic ensues when for some reason the evil machine decides to spit two drinks out for no reason. So, even though I was nice and patient and waited until my drink was all the way at the bottom before grabbing, it shoots another one out at me just to keep me on my toes. What have I done to deserve this treatment??
I won’t go any further today but believe me, there are others. Electronic staplers (think jack-in-the-box), paper shredders, electronic hole punches, elevators, ESCALATORS (“Listen, not a year goes by, not a year, that I don't hear about some escalator accident involving some bastard kid which could have easily been avoided had some parent - I don't care which one - but some parent conditioned him to fear and respect that escalator.”)…the list goes on and on.
To make me feel a little better about myself, please feel free to share your work-related fears. As I said above, sharing leads to healing…or something like that.
2 comments:
OMG, Cami, that's hilarious!
I hate those double revolving doors too!! Don't feel like a freak. I have some elevator fears of my own... well maybe its more a fear of the potential co-passengers than the elevator itself. Although they do bounce a lot and sometimes get stuck... the elevators, that is, not the passengers. :)
oh yeah, elevators and the freaks that ride them. i could do an entire post on elevator etiquette.
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