The Doorman. <br />When I´m in a shop and see people approach its door I rush forward <br />and open it, this is not to be polite but I was a doorman at a posh <br />hotel fr 25 years. I also opened taxi doors for guests and had an umbrella <br />ready if it rained to shield from too much reality. <br />A posh hotel is an artificial place everyone is polite to a guest and <br />the staff mingling with the posh tend to, when not working, take on an air <br />of superiority which doesn´t go down well with the kitchen staff. <br />My wife tells me to stop opening doors for all and sundry, but what <br />can I do? If you train a dog to give paw, you can´t un-train it. <br />25 years as a doorman, the rich gave me a few shilling, now I get <br />glances from women who think I´m patronizing them<br /><br />oskar hansen<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/doorman-2/
