There are many complicated rules governing modern society. Tax laws. Building codes. International treaties. The offside rule.
I’d like to propose one more, and I think we can keep this one fairly simple: Don’t stop in the doorway.
This shouldn’t require legislation. We probably don’t need signs. I’m hoping we can avoid creating a federal Department of Keeping the Hell Out of the Way.
And yet, everywhere I go, people seem determined to turn entrances and exits into places for quiet reflection.
The grocery store is a classic. Someone pushes a cart through the automatic doors, gets three feet outside, and stops.
Now, where did I put my keys? Out comes the purse.
Did I remember to buy tea? Better check the bags.
Where did I park? Good question. Perhaps we can ponder that for a while while blocking the exit.
Meanwhile, four people with carts are piling up behind them because apparently the three feet immediately outside the grocery store is the ideal location to assess your entire afternoon game plan. Move 20 feet forward or maybe six feet left or right and then figure out where you parked or find your tea.
Escalators are even more baffling because they involve machinery. People ride to the top or bottom, step off, and then stop to decide which way they are going.
There is, however, a small problem. The escalator is still moving. It keeps delivering people to the exact spot where they’ve decided to hold a strategic planning session. The people behind you cannot stop. They cannot reverse direction. They’re coming whether any of us like it or not.
Airport moving sidewalks offer the deluxe version of the same experience.
You’ve just been transported two hundred feet – and yeah, those things move you fast – without having to move your legs. You reach the end, are about to step off, and someone ahead of you decides this is an excellent time to rummage through their carry-on. They had a minute or two on the moving sidewalk to do this. They could have done this before they got on. It’s not that difficult: step aside, find what you need, and get on the people mover. But no, it’s better to block the way for two hundred other people with carry-on luggage who have no other exit.
Then there are elevators.
The doors open. You’re inside and would like to get out. The people outside would like to get in. There is a remarkably easy way to accomplish both objectives. Let the people inside get out first. Instead, somebody inevitably starts walking into the elevator as you’re trying to leave it. Where exactly do you think we’re going to put you? There is currently little or no vacancy. Let us stampede out before you come barreling in.
Pubic bathroom entrances are another favorite.
Two people run into each other.
“Hey! Haven’t seen you in ages!”
Wonderful. A reunion.
Could we possibly move this Hallmark movie moment somewhere else? Because right now you’ve chosen to stage it in the one narrow opening everyone uses to enter or leave the bathroom. And the fact is, those of us trying to enter the restroom have to go – bad – and our bladder or colon (or both) can’t hold it much longer.
Restaurants have their own version.
I saw it all summer at my local hangout: people waiting for a patio table gradually migrated away from the restaurant entrance until they were standing at the double doors leading outside. One time, the line stretched at least eight feet long.
These doors also happen to be one of the main routes used by servers carrying trays loaded with food and beverages.
Eventually, one server had enough.
“We need you to stand by the restaurant entrance and wait because you are blocking the way for people to get through,” she said in a firm and maybe a bit harsh voice. Silently, I applauded her.
There really wasn’t much to add.
And here’s the thing: standing closer to the patio does not get you seated faster.
The staff knows you’re there. Moving 30 feet closer to the outdoor tables doesn’t improve your position in the queue. I get that this is a summer tourist mecca and you want the experience of eating on a lakeside patio in the picturesque Kawarthas, but take it easy, you’ll get there. The lake and the patio aren’t going anywhere. The old version of the hangout even had a large sign that I wish was kept after the changeover: “Relax. You’re at the lake.”
It’s the same everywhere. People stop in store aisles with carts positioned diagonally. Groups spread across sidewalks and suddenly stop to look at someone’s phone. Someone walks through a doorway and freezes because they’ve forgotten why they entered the room.
I realize these are not serious problems. Civilization will survive. I’ll survive.
But we could make public life just a tiny bit easier with one extraordinarily simple rule. Before you stop moving, ask yourself two questions: Is there somebody behind me? Am I blocking an entrance?
And if there is, take a few more steps in any direction and, for crying out loud, Get. Out. Of. The. Way.
