December 5: Get the Door

I understand we weren't all raised the same way. My family ate every meal together. Other families follow the grab-and-go routine. I was taught to change my bedsheets every Saturday and I know some people don't prescribe to that rule. Different parents stress different ways of upbringing. Some use words, some belts, and some just run away.

Even though some parents don't stress the importance of saying "please" and "thank you," somehow people still pick up the idea. Rarely will you find a person in his twenties accepting an item or a favor from another human being without giving some sort of acknowledgment to the deed being offered. It's almost human nature to at least nod, make eye contact or smile when someone hands you something or compliments your sweater.

What baffles me, then, is how a person can walk past another living, breathing soul holding a door open without so much as a blink of the eye. If the person holding the door open wasn't there, the walker would have to use his arms, hands, and fingers to pull or push the door open for himself. The holder has literally stopped what he was doing and where he was going for the walker. He stands holding the door open and more times than not is doing nothing more than watching the following person walk in or out of a building or room; all eyes are on the walker.

I don't know about you, but when all eyes are on me, I tend to be on guard a bit. I try to appease the crowd's expectations by acting accordingly. Unless your mind is so lost in thought, I can't comprehend approaching an open door without thinking about the door. Every time I walk toward an automatic sliding glass door, I think about the black, round sensor above me. Every time I walk through a propped door, I notice what is being used as a holder; I'm not exaggerating here, either! These are legitimate thoughts being processed by my brain.

When I hold a door open for someone that doesn't thank me, I'm always tempted to call to them and ask if they saw me. I'm tempted to follow them, grab them by their shoulders, drag them back through the door, walk in, and imagine what their faces must look like as the door closes between us. I'm tempted to forcefully slam the door on their heels before they have a chance to enter. There are quite a few things in life that irritate and annoy me, but few things make me hate a person and lose all respect for him faster than not saying "Thank you" for holding a door open.

A child can be raised by a single parent working three jobs to put food on the table. He could go his entire childhood without being tucked in at night by his mother. He could join a gang and rob convenience stores, but if his friend hands him a glock chances are, he's still going to say "Thank you." Somehow, somewhere, he picked up the proper thing to say when given something. We're all raised differently and yet we still have some sense of manners. Why are people still walking through doors without any acknowledgment to the people holding them?