Are you kidding elevator door opener?

I thought the person who rode the elevator to the third floor was the worst person to ride with. Lazy. Selfish. How could it get worse? But you, elevator door opener proved me wrong. When I step into that small box that transports me from floor 1 to 25, I want to get out of there as quickly as possible. Sure, some elevators have TV in them, but after riding a couple of times the stories rerun. (Plus they are written for really slow readers. Is 3 lines about how Anne Hathaway's ex-boyfriend stole money from Vatican investors really supposed to last me 30 floors?) So as the elevator doors are just about closed and I see your body extremity pop into view and pry the doors open, you can imagine my frustration. Are you kidding elevator door opener? Are you really in that big of a hurry that you can't wait the 30 seconds for the next one of 6 elevators to arrive? Do you have an appointment that you can't be late to? Sure, going to the doctor on time is important. But whether you find out you have herpes at 9:05:00 or 9:05:30 really isn't going to make that big of difference. Look at the big picture elevator door opener. (Yes. Everyone who pries open the elevator door clearly has questionable morals, and therefore makes bad decisions, sexual and/or otherwise. So it's safe to assume that they have *insert favorite STD here*) And the worst part is, when you pry open the door you not only let yourself in, you let in all the other people waiting as well. I get shoved to the back of the elevator and now my ride is uncomfortable because of you. Does it matter that I am on floor 25 and the elevator starts service on floor 24? Does it matter that when you walk in you say sorry and I pretend not to hear you and stare at the TV reading the same story for the 5th time? Does it matter that the regular TV season was cut short this year? No. None of these things matter to you. (I know that the last one is totally unrelated, but like your elevator etiquette both are complete bullshit.) So please elevator door opener, the next time you see the doors closing do what Carl Winslow would do when he saw Steve. Just pretend like it's not there.

Are you kidding morning peep show frequenter?

I'm back working in Manhattan. Luckily the place where I am working is close enough to my apartment that I don't have to wake up too early and can walk across town to the office. Walking across town entails going west of 32nd or 33rd depending on how crowded 32nd is. On this particular day I reached 33rd and 6th Ave just like any other day. Except on this day I saw you, morning peep show frequenter. I saw you walking out of the shady establishment with a big red "Adult DVD's" sign hanging above it, not looking ashamed or embarrassed. No. I saw you leave that place as if you just stopped into Starbucks for an espresso and maybe a muffin (I don't know how hungry you were, but considering your morning activities let's assume you are). You looked like it was totally normal for you to be leaving a one stop porn shop at 9am. I thought it was a little strange, but chalked it up to one of those freak things that you only see once and didn't think much of it after that. Until the next day. Because on the next day I left my apartment, headed west on 33rd, and as sure as Showtime is the best channel for summer television (No really it is, just by its Monday nights alone) there you were, walking out of the porn palace. Are you kidding morning peep show frequenter? While most people are trying to beat the morning commute, you're trying to beat something else. I guess I could understand if this was 1980, and the Busty Babes 7 VHS was hard to come by, but with the invent of the internet you really have no excuse. I always wondered what type of person would work at such a place, let alone go there. How about you take a page from Steve Job's book and in public places instead of yourself, you touch your phone (but wait untill July 11th because that's when the new phone comes out. And buying one now would be a waste of money.)