Thursday, May 29, 2008

Knock (Or At Least Ring The Bloody Bell) And Ye Shall Enter!

What is it with people and locked doors?

At the service station where I put in an occasional appearance behind the counter, we have a security policy that requires the front door to be locked for the overnight shifts. This means that customers wishing to enter the store must be admitted by the console operator on duty; and if the operator isn't immediately available, there's a bell the customers can push to attract their attention.

So...picture the scene at night. The door is locked. A customer has just filled up with petrol and is approaching the store to make payment. The operator (Yours Truly) is out of sight stacking the shelves. The customer encounters the locked door. Do they ring the bell to get my attention? Do they read the sign on the door asking them to ring the bell if the door is locked?

I wish! No, upon encountering the locked door and realising that it's locked, customers decide that the best method of getting my attention is to yank harder on the door. And not only do they pull harder on the door in their attempts to open it, they also try to push it open with as much vigour. The result is that my attention is not attracted by the sound of the bell, it's drawn by the screeching of the shop door as its being yanked fairly off its hinges!

So I ask again: what is it with people and locked doors? Why don't they realise that if the door is locked, trying to force it open is not a viable option? And why do they never see the sign on the door asking them to ring the bell if the door is locked? Honestly, it's the architectural equivalent of thinking that speaking IN A SLOW AND LOUD VOICE will magically enable foreigners to understand English!

Mind you, I don't know why I am so surprised, as this is a familiar phenomenon to me. When I worked in the CBD, I was in an office which had locked front doors (partially as a consequence of the nature of the work; partially because of the not infrequent depredations of the local squatters). It also featured a sign (right next to the door handle) asking people to ring the bell to get the attention of staff. But did it make a blind bit of difference? Not likely! People still pushed and pulled the door with all their vim and vigour, as if their lives depended on it!

I sometimes wonder whether or not being in a public place makes the average citizen a complete bonehead. It's like another phenomenon I've observed, especially in cinemas and theatres and the like, wherein people insist on gathering in large, obstructive groups right in the middle of the doorway. Maybe it's some kind of environmental gene that switches on and renders the possessor thereof unable to do anything other than the one thing that will cause maximum inconvenience to others. Likewise with the locked door; maybe some malevolent DNA strand whispers in their biochemical ear and says: Okay, Joe: this is the bit where you leave your brains in the car. That's a locked door up ahead; just ignore the sign asking you to behave rationally, and instead yank on the damned thing like a demented idiot.

Sigh...maybe I should just resign myself to the proposition that it's an inevitable aspect of human psychology that, when confronted by the unexpected, people will insist on trying to make the expected occur, instead of rationally assessing the situation and responding to it on its own terms. Or maybe the simple, brutal fact is that people are idiots.

Except me, of course. Anyone who maintains a blog must have their head screwed on right...

Talk to you soon,

BB

Quote for the Day: Logic is the art of getting it wrong with confidence. (Joseph Krutch)

2 comments:

Caro said...

Regarding the locked door at the servo- just be thankful that the punters don't just give up altogether and drive away without paying for their petrol.

As for the propensity of people to gather obstructively in doorways, a friend and I observed this many years ago when we were studying at the Uni of Tas, and named it "clumping behaviour," as people stood in clumps right in the doorways, when other people were trying to get through.

A slightly different but related behaviour is the inability of people to use their brain when approaching a double door en masse (say, after leaving a lecture), where only one door of the two is open. Does anyone reach down to flick the lever to open the second door? NO! The large group of people insist on squeezing through the single door.

On occasions when I have approached the door from the outside, and reached in to unlatch and open the second door, I was greeted with expressions of awe and wonder as the squeeze suddenly eased. I felt a bit like King Arthur to the excalibur of the closed door: no-one else could possibly manage to open it!

You're right. People en masse really are stupid sometimes.

SB said...

Tedster:
It's good to see the old grumpy blogster BB back - we've missed you! The new thoughtful theologian blogger is no where near as much fun!!
Share your grumpyness here where we can all enjoy it!
XX