You’re super excited to get out of your apartment. You have all this writing to do, coffee to drink, cupcakes to eat, people to watch, all from the big & comfy plush chair by the window of your local favorite coffee shop. On this particular day, the chair is free and available – a rarity on Mondays, which seem to be the busiest day for writers at this spot. You immediately rush over, claiming your territory, throwing down your jacket, bag, computer, phone, earphones, papers, everything that signals to the other productive patrons this chair is now all yours. Beaming, you cozy in, put your feet up and get writing. “Gosh, this instrumental jazz music is so soothing,” you think to yourself.
Suddenly, you’re chilly. “Wait, where’s that draft of cold, bitter, freezing air coming from?,” you wonder. Uh oh.
Looking up, you realize the door isn’t completely shut. There’s about one inch of open space between the hinge and the frame. Small, in comparison, to the draft of air squeezing itself through the space. You decide to wrap your scarf around your neck. Gripping your hot coffee cup with your frigid fingers, you try to convince yourself it’s not that cold. Plus, you’re really in a groove writing – and your computer is heating your lap – you really don’t want to get up and slam that door shut.
But, as the situation would have it, you’re the person in the sea of plaid-clad hipsters who is nearest to the door. You tell yourself to forget it. Clearly, if someone wanted the door shut, they would man up and walk the five second walk to the door and shut it themselves. That is, until a girl walks in. You’re too busy staring at her brown thick-rimmed glasses to realize the door didn’t shut, again. So, now you’re really in a dilemma. You can feel the fiery glares coming from the dude reading on the couch. You turn around, smiling. “Shut the door,” his eyes scream, ablaze.
You really wanted to give that couch dude a piece of your mind. Something along the lines of, “You shut it, lazy bones!” You get up and shove the door totally shut, which then emits the loudest crackling creak noise you’ve ever heard. Wow. So thats why nobody shuts the door. People would rather deal with a freezing breeze that will most likely cause an onset of a nasty cold or flu, than listen to that awful creak every time someone shuts the door.
Heading back to your chair, you are instantly satisfied. No more cold, everyones happy, the door is shut. Things are really looking up. You gaze lovingly out the window to see a handsome man strolling with his puppy down the street. You think about your cat Bandit at home. Your smile suddenly turns sour when the handsome man totally throws a curveball and starts heading towards the door. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”
You start to sweat a little, and not just because the man is oh so handsome. If you wait too long, people will assume you’re not going to shut the door. If you look up from your computer, even if for a moment, people (crazy couch man) might assume you see the door is open and are willing to shut it. But, in reality, why is it your responsibility? Just because you’re closest to the door, why do you have to interrupt your groove? And really, does anyone else besides you really care about this freezing, cold draft? You remain focused, staring at the keyboard, typing mush.
While furiously typing nonsense, signaling productivity to all, you take out your earphones and plug them in. You figure this really shows people you mean business. I’m writing, I’m shutting out the world, I’m totally not worried about this cold draft seeping through the cracks.
You can’t help but notice out of the corner of your eye, outside, one of the bakery employees heading towards the door. He will definitely totally shut the door.
The door opens and doesn’t close as its done about six times, if you’ve counted correctly in the time you have been there. Awesome.
“YO, could you really shut the door, dude?” (OMG, couch dude speaks. You’re shocked). And yet, he’s looking at you. But you think he’s talking to the employee. You’re confused and don’t want to stir trouble. This outburst has totally disrupted the peace. So, you get up and shut the door, creaking creak interruptions and all.
Frankly, you’re starting to get frustrated. You know once you get up to shut the door, someone is bound to enter again and this cycle of frustration will continue, interrupting the groove you once had. Calm down, you tell yourself. Just keep writing and maybe, in that writing, you will channel Stella and totally get that groove back.
You’re able to write for ten minutes in cozy peace. Then, a red-haired stranger from the back emerges, only to head towards the door. This is your chance! He’s two steps from the door. It’s go time!
You clear your throat. “Hey, on your way out, could you just like really slam the door shut?” He looks up and the two of you make eye-contact. You breathe a sigh of relief.
He opens the door, walks out, and attempts to pull the door shut. It then makes a ridiculously loud creaking creak noise, you see the red-haired raven become startled, and then walk down the street, leaving the door slightly ajar.
You lose it. Literally, whatever “it,” is or was, you lose it. It’s gone. You’re pretty sure steam is being blown out of your ears. Or, whatever happens when you get really, really, really mad.
Couch dude totally catches wave of the situation. He’s clearly not into his book as he should be, because he coughs, looks at you, and informs you (like you didn’t already know this before, but whatever) that you should have picked a different seat. You tilt your head, smile and the voice inside your head tells him to go jump in the lake.
You contemplate staying, proving to all how strong you really are. Who really cares about a door that doesn’t shut? Do you really mind the cold breeze? But it’s winter outside and you really can’t afford to get sick. You know the longer that breeze drifts inside and through your body, the sniffles will start and you don’t have tissues at your apartment.
So, you surrender. You take a silent bow to everyone, pack up your goodies and head home. The next day you head to your favorite restaurant that has wi-fi, a cozy spot in the back and a working revolving door and you totally knock out the rest of this story.