I’m currently in a heated battle with a secret door at work.
It’s been brewing for a while now, but I’d say the lines have been drawn and shots have been fired on both sides. And now it’s war. It’s a case of who will be warn down first – me, or the door.
I think I might lose to a door.
Do you have any idea how that can make a man feel?
Our secret door, obviously, is a secret. And over time the way it works has changed. Where once it would swing freely, it has now dropped on its hinges and scraps along the floor. But it still functions. The reason for this, primarily, is that people use it to pull themselves up once they are through it (for it is not a full-height door) which puts pressure on the hinges, and the wall the hinges are in and… well, it puts us where we are now.
Which is me being bested, daily, by a door.
Every day I test the door, because I know it’s temperamental. All it needs to do, when triggered, is swing open enough for people to realise there’s a door there. That’s it. Once it’s done that, people will push it open of their own accord.
It – the door, my nemesis – has got wise to this, though. And works perfectly in the testing phase. Popping open as it should, swinging to reveal the secrets beyond, just tempting you to push it open.
When a team are in the room, it may as well be holding up a sign directly at the camera that says “HAHA FUCK YOU!” on it. Because it won’t open. We have to tell people to push it. It’s so annoying.
And then when the team goes, and I test it again… it does what it is supposed to do.
Today it took it to a whole new level where it wouldn’t lock, wouldn’t unlock and generally misbehaved all over the place.
One of the things I learnt from my dad is the stress relief of hurling abuse at inanimate objects. The door got both barrels today, and then some.
I won’t be beaten by it. I won’t let it win. It’s just a door.
At the moment, I’m next due to tussle with its brand of evil on Wednesday. I bet it’s there now, working out how to break me…