the Double Doors
In continuing with our series on the MARTA riders I hate, I bring you the Double Doors.
Yea, I totally made up that Word to Know. But someone needs to call out the woman who was waiting with her luggage the other day at Midtown station, standing right in front of the train door when it opened, and smiling at me while she blocked my way off the train and the sweet sweet path to Caribou.
It’s obvious that you don’t take the train that often, lady, and your innocent smile won’t make me pardon you for your crimes. See, lady, there is an order, no, a law, of train ridership and you need to abide by it. And that law dictates that you let your fellow passengers off the train before you get on. Be courteous for pete’s sake!
The operators can look out and see you waiting to get on, but they can’t see me trying to alight. You won’t be left, but I can’t get off if you block the way, making a human door reinforced with suitcases on wheels that presses up against me as I try to push my way out. And when I leave, there’s more space for you. So do us all a favor and stand to the side while you wait to board so that I can get to my spiced Mexican hot chocolate. Thanks, lady.