Being a cynical bastard has its advantages sometimes.  One tends to take things with a grain of salt and therefore is less disappointed when bad things happen.  It’s not a lifestyle choice I’d recommend for anyone but it works for me.  Growing up in big cities all my life also leads to a distrust of people and a lack of wanting to have human interaction with strangers.  I dare anyone to make eye contact on a public transportation train and see if you don’t wind up in some sort of verbal or physical confrontation, especially in a “Type A” sort of city like New York or Chicago.

Therefore, it might seem odd that I like a certain “service” the office building I work in provides.  The doorman/concierge or whatever they are greet you as though they know you each time you walk into the lobby.  For the first 6 months or so, there was a lady (in the building uniform attire they provide) who greeted each an every one of us as we entered.  Keep in mind this isn’t a small building.  It’s 30 floors tall so there’s a lot of people coming in and out all the time.

Here was the typical conversation we’d have (and she would have with almost anyone who would interact with her).  Keep in mind they must have this conversation hundreds of times a day.

[Smiley Faced Lady] "Good morning.  How are you?"

[Worker Drone] "Doing well.  How about you?"

[Smiley Faced Lady] "I’m fine. You have a nice day."

[Worker Drone] "You too."

There is now a rather tall guy giving the same niceties as you exit and enter.  Obviously this is part of their job description but whether they’re muttering internally about how crappy a job they have, they’re always cheerful on the outside.  After a long commute, even if it’s fake pleasantries, it’s nice to see a smiling face as you’re about to embark on a long day’s work.

Of course this doesn’t mean that when they go home they don’t complain to their friends and family about what a crappy job it is to be fake happy all the time to people who make significantly more than them.  For all we know, they put the barrel of a gun in their mouth each night and try to think of reasons not to pull the trigger.  But if that’s the case, they do a damn fine job of hiding it.

One other thing I do like about my building and it goes back to my natural habit of not wanting to interact with the Filth-Laden Public is the main revolving door at the entrance.  This eliminates the need to touch a disease-infested steel apparatus (i.e. the poles you hold on to on the El train).  It also does away with the following split-second decisions that normally goes with a normal door in a public place:

• Do I hold the door for someone who might be several seconds behind me, thus making me stop my forward progress but retaining my common decency and courtesy?
• Do I, as said person a few seconds behind the door holder, speed up my pace to allow that person to hold the door for me?
• Do I, as said door holder, get pissed if someone doesn’t give me the customary “Thank You” for holding said door and then brood about lack of manners people have in public?
• If I’m with a person at work, do they care if I share the “slice” of revolving door real estate (there’s room for two in each section, but ONLY if you know that person) as we enter at the same time?

With a revolving door, all that courtesy shit goes out the window (or door).  You wait your turn in line, there’s no need to make eye contact or worry about holding the door, and you say hello to the doorman as you are whisked inside the lobby.