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I have a bad habit of leaping into elevators once the doors slide open.

I know this is rude and obnoxious habit, and that other people in the world use elevators to come and go places. It’s not logical, I could potentially leap into an empty elevator shaft. Yet every time the doors ding, I impulsively jump forward and into the elevator, as though I have a few seconds before the doors will slam shut on me. Sometimes, my thoughts of avoiding a squished fate are interrupted by a full room of people, waiting to exit before I can carry out my plan.


Today I leaped forward into the elevator, only to face an elderly man with a walker and a disgruntled pregnant lady. “This is not your finest moment,” I thought, frozen with embarrassment, standing in the doorway.  I quickly moved backwards and tried to cover my tracks by holding the door open with my body.


“You coulda killed someone,” the old man said sarcastically.

“Sorry, I just really wanted you guys to go first,” I insisted, my face flushing, despite my best efforts to keep cool.

“Yeah, we can tell.”

As the angry pair hobbled towards the front lobby, I shuffled my way into the elevator, next to a mother and daughter who tried to stifle laughing at me.


…I’ve resolved to check elevators before I leap in the future.