Wednesday, November 21, 2007

let's just hope we don't get stuck

The first time H came to visit me in Chicago, it was an unusually warm November weekend. We did all the cheesy Chicago touristy things like hang out at the top of the Sears tower, indulge in delicacies from Portillo's, wander around Navy Pier and catch a 3-D Imax movie about space narrated by Tom Hanks. You know, first-datish stuff. And I was doing all the normal beginning-of-the-relationship test stuff, like see if he held the door open or noticed when I was cold and tried to do something about it. Things were going well, and he earned all E's for effort on that report card. Then one afternoon we tried to enter the Kenneth Cole on Michigan Avenue--through a revolving door.

There are some revolving doors out there that are designed to accommodate multiple people. You know the ones, they're found in hospitals and all-you-can-eat restaurants, and sometimes they even have motion detectors and rotate by themselves. However, in my experience, the pie-piece spaces in a run-of-the-mill revolving door are designed for single capacity only. And when H got right into the space with me, I came to know exactly why. When there are too many people in a revolving door, there's no room to move your legs and actually make it revolve. It took some fancy coordination and Fred-Flintstone-like quick babysteps, but we finally got out of there. I turned around and said to H, "What the HELL was that?" He was like, "What? That's not how you do it?"

It turns out that they don't have a whole lot of revolving doors in Southern California. Their main purpose is keeping the cold outside and the heat inside. And because the weather is always 70 degrees F and gorgeous, they don't have a whole lot them where H is from.

He's coming back to town soon, but I'm pretty sure that after two years he's got the hang of the whole revolving door thing. I just want you all to know that I don't plan on missing any posts for the rest of the month. But I just want it on record that getting stuck in a revolving door is a legitimate excuse.

8 comments:

The Stormin Mormon said...

I always wondered why Chicago was so fascinated with the revolving door. I encountered more of them while there than anywhere else. Here in Seattle, they are rare...

But we get nothing worse than 50 or so and some rain. If it's cold enough to freeze the entire city shuts down and everyone stays home. (Which is when I love to go out, because coming from North Dakota, it doesn't even slow me down.)

omar said...

It's possible that this is my favorite post ever on this site.

Jon said...

Actually, that's not true, there's plenty of revolving doors here in southern California, but they are built to accommodate no less than 47 people. In fact, most of the time, we'll wait outside until we have a gathering of at least 15 people before we even enter. You need at least 5 or 6 to push the thing anyway. I'm sure there was just a little confusion, that's all. H probably thought Chicago was full of class 5 midgets or something.

Librarian Girl said...

It's so true! On the west coast, there are hardly any revolving doors. Back home in Midwestern cities, they are everywhere! I never really noticed until you just said it. Who knew revolving door walking was an acquired skill? Maybe I should put this on my resume.

neena maiya (guyana gyal) said...

Wait 'til the real H comes out, you'll see some even funnier stuff :-D

Uncommon Blonde said...

My husband did this to me in NYC leaving the lobby of a very nice hotel. I was so embarassed but he thought it was completely normal. We don't have these doors in Florida either ...

Uncommon Blonde said...

I was going to add a link to your blog on my blogroll - should I use your blog title for the link?

Bri said...

There is a revolving door to leave the penguin house at the St. Louis Zoo. On my first encounter with the goofy thing, I somehow managed to get my backpack stuck and jammed up the door. Some very helpful tourists unstuck me and no one was hurt, thankfully, but I am way more careful of the damn things now.