Rain, Rain, Come Again

I would like to formally apologize for all the bad weather in the New York City area for the past 2 1/2 years. I feel somewhat responsible because I was praying for it ever night I went to work.

The equation is simple. Bad Weather + Guests + Taxis = Tips.
Tips = Happy Doorman

Some doormen hate bad weather. There are less taxis because everyone with more than a subway fare is getting in one. But that is the magic of it. The longer it takes to get a cab, the harder it looks like I'm working. (When, in reality, it is as simple as being seen. Taxis are looking for me)

How To Look Like You're Working Hard

1. Run to the street as soon as your guest confirms they want a taxi; even when there is clearly no taxi in sight.

2. Use your whistle strategically. Whistle at the cabs going down the avenue that are clearly not going to hear you.

3. When in rain and wind catch that perfect gust to flip your umbrella inside out; or just hold it sideways and look like you are really fighting to stay upright.

4. Get upset at someone catching a taxi up the block from you. (Not so upset they notice though. Remember, you don't actually want that cab, otherwise, it was too easy to catch)

5. Finally, when the taxi is caught, open the door and tell the driver "good eyes" or "good ears." This will make your guests think your efforts actually did something.

These steps, along with bad weather, increase my tips tremendously.

So keep spitting sky, and get your cash out folks (and enjoy the show), because I'm going to look like the hardest working doorman in the city.

Attack of the Killer Revolving Doors

Instead of opening a door for people, I have the task of spinning them through a revolving door. I am astounded by how many are terrified of these "modern" contraptions.

I make it as easy for them as possible. I stand to one side, ready to push, and with the other hand gesture the direction they are to walk and say, "right this way." If they are compliant, they walk through without even touching the door. No problem. But those who question the door's abilities...

One lady had the first part right. She accepted the fact that I was going to do the pushing. She even walked in the right direction (not everyone does). As soon as she gets in, she turns around to talk to the person behind her and , surprise surprise, is hit by the door before I can stop it. (And, of course, this is my fault)

My favorite persons know they have difficulty with revolving doors. They don't even bother with them. They say, "I'm sorry. I really hate these doors. Do you have another entrance?" (We do, it is for wheelchairs and strollers. Better known as a handicap entrance. Which these people clearly are... It's sad really)

And then there are the sort that have overcome their fear. They are no longer slaves to the horrific, energy efficient, doors of the future. They charge after that door like a bull enraged by the color red (Ignoring the doorman there to greet them and assist with the door), but alas, they are quickly greeted with a little device called "speed control," so the door will only get up to a certain speed. They get their heels hit from behind, they strain their backs trying to push with all their might. I have even seen someone get smacked right in the face by the glass in front of them. This is when I step back and throw my hands up, proving I wasn't pushing the door.

Please folks; just relax. Say hello to the friendly doorman. Let him do the work, and you will glide through the door like breath into air.

(Or you might as well just buy a wheelchair)

Bus Stop Findings

So a passer-by asks a familiar question; "Where is the nearest bus stop?"

(Lets forget for a moment how they didn't say "excuse me," or "could I bother you a moment?")

I quickly explain, a little too rehearsed, that the nearest bus stop is on just the other side of seventh avenue. They assume I am lying and ask where the next one is in the opposite direction. I tell them, "on the corner of sixth avenue."

Now, the first stop is HALF the distance from my door, then the sixth avenue stop. Both positions can clearly be seen. And yet, 99.9995% proceed to go to the farthest stop. (without a "thank you" or even a "cheers" from our visitors from across the pond)

Two reasons come to mind.

1. They are a tourist and don't know how far sixth avenue is. Though you can see both, especially at night with the traffic lights.

2. They are scared of crossing 7th avenue. (???? then you probably aren't ready for New York)

I've mixed and matched the order I tell them. I've explained the difference in distance. I have even pointed at a bus picking up passengers in front of the nearest stop. And yet.......

oh well