So I arrive at work carrying my lunchbox cooler and gallon of water in my hand. As I approach the building entrance, I’m thinking of how I’m going to get the door open. Shouldn’t be too difficult. I had it figured out.
As I approach the door, the girl ahead of me stopped and held the door for me. I almost vomitted from shock!
After calming myself down, I told the young lass, “Thank you!”
As it turns out, the girl works on the third floor. I work on the second. Now getting the door open to enter the second floor is actually a pretty difficult task for me if I’m carrying anything. I usually have to set whatever I’m carrying down, open the door and hold it with my foot, then grab my stuff back up.
Lo and behold; as the girl reached the second floor she turned to look at me, and realizing that I work on the second floor, opened the door for me before continuing on her way.
Well that did it. I started puking everywhere. Luckily it was a sweet smelling puke, very much like the sweet aroma of a tropical beach.
And yes, I said, “Thank you. I appreciate your help!”