Wednesday, January 4, 2012

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Automatic Doors Aren't Opening For Me Anymore

I guess my soul ran out of juice. Clearly something very important within me expired and now I can't get through automatic doors.

A real chunk of your manhood gets blasted away when you straight up run into an automatic door that was supposed to open. The other day I was crushing someone in Words With Friends when all of a sudden my life flashed before my eyes. I made square contact with the auto-door at my work and hit my face right on the glass. Easily had a mild-concussion and a sprained MCL. Luckily no one was around when I did it, but regardless I had to take the revolving door like a defeated mule. The next day I watched a countless amount of people walk in and out of that door like God was sitting on a lawn chair with a glass of lemonade and a fresh grilled cheese giggling at my misfortune. "Oh Dub, that just sounds like a random unfortunate malfunction." Nope.

Walked out of the grocery store yesterday and crushed another fucking door. Smashed it. At that point I had to ask myself, "Why are you darting into automatic doors with reckless abandon in the first place?", but then I realized it's an automatic door and I should never have this dilemma. The person behind me definitely laughed, made sure I wasn't crying, and proceeded to walk through the door no problem. What's really good with that? Do I seriously have no soul? Do my sneakers not have the proper rubber to trigger the auto-sensors? Am I straight up a bad person and is this my punishment? If that's the case, it's an outlandishly bizarre and straight up cruel method of torture.

I'm not much of 'say your prayers' kind of guy, but tonight I'm definitely going to be getting my hymn on.

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