There are two types of handicap door buttons. One is easily and effortlessly pressed on your normal route to the doorway and operates so swiftly that by the time your approach ends an open door enthusiastically awaits your entry. And then there’s the recalcitrant button. This particular species lies tucked away somewhere off to the side of the door, safely outside any possible direct path, and after a two second delay operates the door at a speed so slow you have no choice but to assume its objection to your insolence rivals only the Cave of Wonders’. It is this second button, more specifically your iniquitous use of it, which I would like to address. There are really only three copacetic uses for this button: you are, as the picture above said button implies, confined to a wheelchair; you are utilizing crutches or some other prosthetic which significantly hinders your ability to walk and use your arms simultaneously; or you are holding, pulling, or pushing some inordinately large – and preferably heavy – object. But despite your seemingly obliviousness to this apparent fact, pushing this button and then standing in front of the door in increasing tedium merely because you are too corpulent and/or lazy (usually both) to manually open the door is not socially acceptable behavior. It is certainly not becoming. Far from it, you are subjecting yourself to ridicule and disdain from those behind you whose only goal at the moment is to enter or leave the building in some fashion remotely resembling a respectable manner. And it is well deserved. I know it’s difficult. Those doors weigh so much and the effort is so physically and mentally draining. But if you are, in fact, one of the indolents who prefer this misallocation of sympathy towards those actually physically impaired, you likely belong to a crowd most in need of even the modest caloric expenditure opening a door provides. The American lifestyle may be sedentary compared to the most immobile bovine, but that does not excuse your unusually emphatic embrace of it.