Monday, June 30, 2008

Into my own hands

Do you see this? Do you know what this is?

This item is none other than The Offending Doorstop.

My pleas to the management and the grounds crew were for naught. The ultimate consequence of calling the management was merely the frustration of having to explain to our stripey-haired snippet of a manager that the second set of doors (the set that does not lock, mind you) was not installed for security reasons.

Snippy Manager: "Well, actually, the doors are for security reasons"

Me: "I believe that the primary set of doors, the set of doors that locks, I mean, is there for security reasons. Among other reasons. Like the fact that most buildings have doors; it's a custom, really. But what I am saying is that the second set of doors creates a small atrium designed to moderate the temperature of the building."

Snippy Manager: "Oh, no. Actually, um, I'm pretty sure they wouldn't do that."

Me: "Really. This isn't intuitive to everyone, I guess. Well, the hallways are significantly hotter when the second set of doors is propped open..."

I then spent a good five minutes explaining the theory behind double paned windows and the effectiveness of good old fashioned air as an insulator, but I've got a hunch she wasn't listening.

Me: "I thought, perhaps, we could place some kind of notice on the door, maybe something like the sign posted by the trash chute reminding tenants to please take their boxes down to the dumpster rather than trying to fit them down the chute."

Snippy Manager: "Well, actually, we don't want to have signs all over the place. It doesn't look good when we are showing the property to new tenants. Um."

Me: "I doubt your new tenants like to see the door propped open in July, keeping the ambient temperature in the hallway at a ripe ninety degrees either."

We engaged a somewhat extended civil squabble, but I could tell that my insight was lost on her (please forgive me) pea-brain. She even defended the idea that the doors needed to be open in order for the floor to dry after being mopped. Puh-lease.

I hoped our conversation would have had some kind of impact on her, but the next morning, as Ryan and I embarked upon our day, the door was (you guessed it) propped open. Naturally. I bent over to get a closer look at the doorstop. Three seconds later...

Me: "It's in my hand!!!"

Ryan: "Huh?"

Me: "Look! Look! It's in my hand!"

He turned around and saw the visage in the photo at the top of this page. The doorstop is no more. I keep thinking the Feds are coming for me. I think I need a little more excitement in my life.

Yesterday, I saw Rotundarino making her rounds when I was leaving for work. She met my smile with a scowl. It must be hard to be the loser, but, then again, I wouldn't know.


betsey said...

Phew! I've been following this saga and am relieved that you have emerged victorious! It is a good day :)

Way to go Amy!

Kate said...

Did you point out the fact to the stripe manager that, if indeed, the second set of doors is a "security measure," this advanced safety technique would be rendered useless by PROPPING OPEN THE DOOR.

ashsan said...

A little story about bureaucracy in a similar kind of insane action:

The other day, I had to ride a shuttle from the Albuquerque airport (motto: spell that!) to Santa Fe. The driver was one of those extremely meticulous types who does his job with the seriousness of a space engineer at rocket launch despite the fact that, yes, all he does is drive a shuttle around.

So we all have to line up and shout the exact location of where we are going, and the driver marks it down on a piece of paper before shouting "next!" This man runs a tight shuttle-ship.

We pile in and begin driving. Suddenly, a man from the back says: "Oh, we are passing right by the hospital? My wife is in there. Could you just drop me off on the corner?"

Shuttler: That isn't the location you specified at line-up.

Guy: Yeah, but I didn't know we were going right by there. There's my wife's room right there. There's my car. I can see it. Oh look, we are at a red light.

Shuttler: No chance, bub. I'd get fired.

Guy: If you dropped people off where they wanted to be dropped off? I promise I wouldn't tell on you.

Shuttler: You want me to lose my job!

Guy: No, I just want you to open the doors.

Shuttler: That's crazy man (apparently and for some reason he is in charge of deciding this question). I can't just go dropping people off...

Guy: where they want to be dropped off?

Shuttler: Look, I've got a GPS trained on me. One false move, I'm fired. (You know what a GPS is, I'm sure: an evil sattelite that spies on shuttle drivers to get them fired.)

Guy: Please?

Forty minutes later, no dice. I get off.

Me: Bureaucracy's a long ride. eh?

Just sayin' maybe we should introduce snip-stripe to shuttle-gus.

Austin said...

Huzzah! I admire your bravado.