SLAMMING DOORS

by Carly Colao

I spend my life running after closing subway doors. There's always the rushed swipe at the turnstile, the mad dash down the stairs and the leap into the sometimes-air-conditioned-if-your-lucky subway car. I feel as though the subway cars should come equipped with high-fivers because, if you happen to make it through the rapidly slamming doors and you don't have an acquaintance with you, you're left to celebrate your victory alone. I've seen it happen all too often. A woman rushes in, is so pleased she has made it, looks around - smiling - for someone to give her a visual high five and is left panting from her sprint without any positive reinforcement whatsoever. It's an achievement just to get through those doors - and they hurt if you get stuck - so I truly feel that some type of award system is necessary.

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