I HATE! Subway Stairwell Rushers

Each morning, I descend the stairs that lead into the subterranean train system that we here in New York fondly refer to as the subway. And almost every morning, I find that a fellow commuter is in such a rush to get down to the platform that he or she practically knocks me over in the stairwell despite the fact that the train is not (nor is even close to) pulling into the station.

This - as you can imagine - drives me absolutely bonkers. First of all, let's consider how common sense might play into this scenario. Why run down the stairs - stairs which are narrow, often slippery, littered with garbage and pools of standing water - and risk falling on your ass? But more importantly, why rush down the stairs when the train isn't even coming? You can determine whether the train is approaching from above ground, so if it's obviously not, why is it necessary to push other commuters out of the way in order to get down to the platform?

It gives me anxiety - unnecessary anxiety - to hear someone's hurried footsteps approaching as I cautiously make my way down the stairs into the station. If the train is coming, I assure you, I'll be rushing too, but if there's radio silence, frankly, you rushing up behind me really makes me want to trip you and watch as you tumble down the concrete stairs. (Honesty is the best policy!)

I just don't understand why people need to rush when there is no train to rush for. I know taking the subway is an exciting experience - loud noises, fast trains, lots of people - but you'd think New Yorkers would be able to contain their excitement and maintain a bit of composure. Pushing? A bit 3rd grade, don't you think?

I HATE! People Who Can't Push Revolving Doors

Is there some sort of weakling epidemic spreading across the country?

No? Well, I swear to you that every time I try to go into or out of the revolving doors of an office building (or in the subway), the person in front me can't manage to push the door with any force and I, and everyone else behind me end up moving through at the speed of (and not to offend, but I'll quote one of my fave movies here) "a Special Olympics hurtler".

Seriously! I am always caught behind the weakling (petite woman, wrinkly old man, laxidasical tween, or hippie stoner) who can't seem to move the revolving door with any force. I just don't understand it - a revolving door is not that heavy. In fact, these doors were made with the specific purpose of easily allowing a constant stream of people to enter and exit a building at any given time. The doors are made (and I'll capitialize for effect this time) SPECIFICALLY to be easily accessible by ALL - big, small, fat, thin, weak, strong, young, old, etc. (For the love of God, people use the term 'revolving door' as a metaphor - it's supposed to that GD effective.) I don't see any reason why someone would not be able to push a revolving door with ease.

And do you know what I do when the person in front me decides to move through the revolving door like he or she is talking a leisurely Sunday stroll in the park? I bet you can guess. That's right; I give the door an excessivley strong push, as if to say to the person in front of me: 'Move your ass!' I'm actually waiting for someone to trip or fall one of these days. It's priceless to see the look of surprise on the person's face; it's as if they've been jolted out of some hypnotic state.

Wake up, people! Push! Push! Push! Pregnant women do it all the time except it's more painful and less pretty.