My freshman year of college I was walking downstairs in my dorm to put some laundry in. I had the basket, so it wasn’t very easy walking. At the bottom of the stairs was a large, heavy door that was always closed for fire safety.
A guy was walking a number of steps in front of me – he was just past the distance where you go through the internal debate of ‘should I hold the door for the person behind me?’ Except, I was carrying a bulky object, which extends the time you should wait to hold the door.
The guy decided that he was far enough away, or a big enough punk, to not feel the need to hold the door for me. He walked on through, and the door began to close.
I would’ve preferred that not to have been the case, so I decided the appropriate thing to do would be a sarcastic thanks. I was by myself, but that only seems to encourage my desire to make stupid jokes.
“Thanks,” I said out loud, with a cheesy grin and exaggerated wink.
That’s when the guy, the saint, came back, with the purpose of holding the door for me realizing I could use the help.
We both stopped and stared – I had the presence of mind to un-wink, and slowly go from cheesy sarcastic smile to awkward, what to do … what to do … smile.
Eventually he backed up and let the door close behind him. I decided to wait a bit before doing my laundry.