conversations with strangers #115

6.11.15

I pushed through the first set of absurdly heavy library doors and glanced over my shoulder to see if anyone was behind me. A man was, so I paused and held the door for him.

Him: Thank you. And now you have to let me. *scurries past* *pushes next door open* *waves me through*

Me: Why, thank you.

Him: One good turn deserves another.

The clichéd statement has never felt so genuine or warm. Who knew opening doors would be such a pleasant way to pass the evening?

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