July 31, 2003
Yesterdayís Little Toe: the Battle of the Bitches

I was headed toward a door on a secured floor of my office building with two colleagues. Three people I didnít know were standing in the doorway, and one of them was leaning against the partly open door. They were in conversation, and as we approached none of them moved to get out of the way. I said, "Excuse me," and didnít even use my deliberately snotty voice, although deep down I believe that people who stand around in doorways in high-traffic areas deserve the snotty voice.

One of them moved completely aside. The other took a half step. The woman leaning on the door looked at us, kept talking, and didnít move.

The doorway was wide enough to get by without touching her, but the door wasnít open very far, so after a brief pause I stepped forward, pushed it open, and walked through. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her stumble a bit and catch her balance, and according to my colleagues she shot me - or rather, my back - a very dirty look.

In retrospect, Iím not sure I would have done anything differently even if I had been well rested, but I included it in yesterdayís list in case she turns out to be Vice President in Charge of Firing My Ass Someday.