Revolving Doors – Anecdote from My Life

Image result for kid in revolving doors

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At this point in my life, I’m beginning to realize two conclusions about myself: I am accident prone, and I may be invincible. As you may guess, I say the latter because of the many accidents and events I’ve blundered myself into and somehow came out alive. Whether this be a curse or a blessing, I’ll let you decide. What scares me the most, are the multiple times my head has been in jeopardy of injury and permanent damage. This has taken many forms ranging from face planting off of bicycles, falling down cliffs while dog walking, falling down mountains while skiing, or simply having my head be a magnet for sports equipment. However, one incident definitely stood out in my mind when I started writing this; this is that story.

Many years ago, when I was a tiny child (I forget my age), I was taken so some sort of convention or event. Of course, I forget the location as well, but I’ll get to the reasoning behind that later. Anyway, we came across some stations that were set up where people would talk to you about whatever-the-hell, but being the true child I was, none of it interested me. I decided to wander off and explore the center on my own, until I stumbled across a revolving door. Now, this wasn’t any ordinary revolving door, no. This door rotated by itself on a motor. Boy, was I fascinated by this door for some reason that I still don’t know, nor will I ever know. So my little, prepubescent self decided that he wanted to get a closer look at this mystical door, and I inched closer and closer until I was right next to it. I must have been pretty curious, because that wasn’t even close enough for me. So on the right side of the door frame, after the door panel passed, I peaked around the frame. I decided to stick my head in and took a look; just my head. For all of maybe one second I was content until the next panel on the revolving doors came and squished my head in between it and the door frame. I swear that door squished out all memory of where I was and who I was with. So imagine some tiny kid screaming because his head is stuck in the revolving door, and you can probably also picture that it would have attracted a crowd. It was after 10 seconds that some adult yanked me out of the doors, and my head felt like a balloon for a couple hours afterwards. To this day, I hesitate to use any revolving door.

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