The Social Awkwardness Turbine

Have you seen these around? They're incredible! Revolving doors are essentially humiliating toll booths for me. I don't pay with money, I pay with red-faced embarrassment as I stutter-step my way through them. I was never taught how to properly use this carousel of miserable shame.

I will, without fail, slightly mess up the timing of entering a revolving door and be forced to stand, waiting for a chance to jump into a glass-walled wedge that allows me to gain access to alternative spaces. The only way to politely hold a revolving door for an older person or woman is to stand dumbly next to it. And I have to make that terrible "you first" gesture. "By all means, have at it! I will occupy the revolving compartment that follows yours!" I am convinced I am going to lop some lady in half with my enthusiastic usage of the revolving door.

Also, no one has ever fallen in love in a revolving door compartment. If you lock eyes with the one destiny has selected for you, you will either go in an endless circle of walking, divided by glass and metal pushbars, or you will forever be on the opposite sides of some building wall looking at each other. The only remedy would be for the person to wait outside until you revolve yourself around. But then you'd be asking for someone to wait for you. And true love waits for no one.

I leave you with a single horrific visual- what if revolving door panels weren't made of glass, but with metal. It would be like spending a second inside a coffin every time you used one. Plus, they're are just a huge fire hazard.

The Kool-Aid Man had the right idea all along.