Door Duty

I was happy to see John this morning as I walked out of the elevator on my way to work. We said our usual pleasantries about the weather and wishing each other a great day while he held the door open for me. While the threat of yesterday's doormen strike loomed over millions of New Yorkers last night, I know everyone was relieved to see their morning routines go on this morning per usual. Some worried about the trash and inconvenience of having to get their food from the delivery man in the lobby. Others couldn't bear the idea of having to fetch their own taxi. Who would watch guard over Milly the poodle in the rain while the Mrs. sat comfortably in the warmth of the lobby? I was not one of these people. I can open my own door, hail my own cab, sort my own trash and collect my own mail. Selfishly, I was a bit worried about security and about strangers lurking in the hallway unannounced which is the reason I opt for a building with a doorman in the first place. My building is no fancy pants palace where everything is done for me, which I prefer. But I rely on the men who sit behind the counter for their smiling faces and corny jokes that greet me no matter if I am grumpy in the morning or tired in the evening. I feel just a little bit safer knowing that they are watching out for me. All in all, the final result was a win-win. The doormen earned a much deserved four year contract with a pay raise and benefits, and the Mrs. can keep her coif from getting wet. I am just happy knowing that the doormen are taken care of because they sure take care of me.