Periodically conversations inworld turn to the topic of ‘favourites’… ‘What’s your favourite song?’ – Impossible to say, there are far too many, and it changes constantly… ‘What’s your favourite food?’ – Possibly chicken with noodles, (but it has to be served in a deserted car park in Bali on a rickety table, by a bakso boy, during Kuningan! – Me, hard to please?)… ‘Favourite tipple?’ – Ice cold cider brewed at a (fairly) local orchard, no label, and pot luck which variety you get!
Then, inevitably: “What’s your favourite movie?”
Of course, the all-time, hands-down winner will always be Bladerunner, but then again – the more I think about it, the more I realise that there are a whole bunch of films that would easily jostle for space in my top ten, and that some of them surprise even me. That top ten is rather fluid too – it may easily change with my mood and I’ll always reserve the right to lump together originals and their sequels as a single entry; for example, the Alien franchise (but not the abominable AvP series, or the disappointing – so far – prequels), Kill Bill et al, and the Matrix trilogy. It’s a fair bet though that my list, ever-changing as it is, will contain what many might consider to be sometimes confusing screenplays.
For example, I’m a massive fan of Fight Club, Brazil, Inception, Cloud Atlas and, erm… Sliding Doors! Yes, you did read that correctly, there is a slightly confusing romantic comedy in that list,but I just can’t help myself – there’s something I find very enjoyable about both the concept and the storyline, and that’s just the way I am… What is also very ‘me’, is that almost all of the preceding part of this post has very little, if anything, to do with today’s topic, other than the extremely tenuous link that the above movie triggered in my mind whilst shopping inworld this week.
Sliding doors, or more correctly, doors of any style at the entrance to shopping establishments are one of the most irritating aspects of inworld retail therapy that I encounter. That might at first seem a completely bizarre statement to make, but I’m sure that many of you can relate effortlessly to my own experiences and feel a similar sense of frustration, occasional idiocy and annoyance that shop doorways are rarely quite as inviting and/or convenient as they might initially make themselves out to be.
Let’s kick off with sliding doors, since that’s where I started. Although it’s not just doors of the sliding variety that cause me irritation – any door, in fact, where you make the reasonable assumption that all one needs to do is approach confidently and it will courteously slide or swing open as you draw near. This, in my experience can be a test of nerve, since there’s never any indication that any particular door is going to be quite so accommodating, with the rather predictable result that I frequently find myself walking, full pelt, into a stubbornly closed door which has no intention of opening without a preceding mouse click. Inevitably, there will always be a group of people clustered around the entrance, wetting their pants with laughter at my inability to master this simple skill. With this in mind, I’ve adopted the practice of pre-emptively clicking, which tends to have the less than desirable effect of flinging open the doorway on my approach, only to have it summarily slam in my face before I get to it, leaving me to career once again into the glass – cue further pant-wetting mirth.
However, even worse than the uncooperative door, is the terribly helpful, but fiendishly evil automatic door that swings open to let you back out of the door, pinning you between door and wall and effectively trapping you in the premises, whilst you haplessly try to release yourself from the constricted space, time and time again. To the pants-wetting hilarity of all those watching.
Unfortunately, it’s not just doors – cooperative or otherwise, that cause me problems. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve attempted to enter a building by way of a cunningly transparent window, misleading gap in the brickwork, or simply bumbled around the perimeter in the vain hope of finding a doorway so cunningly disguised that even Ocean’s Eleven would struggle to break into the building. This of course, is always performed to an appreciative audience, who somehow managed to find their way in with no trouble at all, all now laughing… well, you know the rest. Seriously builders, if you’re going to make a door, what’s so wrong about making it absolutely obvious?
That’s assuming there is a door, at all – I have come across stores that seemingly have no means of entry or exit at all. All I can assume here is that either they have no wish to sell their merchandise, or I’m simply not welcome on the premises!
They don’t seem to come around
Push the finger and make a sound
They don’t seem to come around
Maybe they they’ll knock ’em down
The White Stripes – My Doorbell