To The Studio Door,

It has been a number of years since we migrated to this building. And ever since then, I've had a love/hate relationship with you. 

You're sort of soundproof. Like how you barely make a sound when opened. So that people may walk in with no notice. And don't forget my back is to the door. So no matter who walks in, I'm going to react like a ninja assassin just slipped in to the room.

Our old door was given away in a contest when we moved from the depths of "41 and Lincoln". The door was loud and creaky, giving a very audible announcement when someone entered the room (we also faced the door then, and that building was loud and creaky anyway). I took that thin piece of wood for granted (that's what she said).

But that can be forgiven, if you didn't shock the living h*** out of me when when I touched the handle. I don't know the physics of it all. Maybe the chair builds up a charge, that I carry, and you punish me with the wrath of static shock. Who knows?

All I know is that I have to approach the door like I'm in a "Saw" movie. I just imagine that scary freaking clown popping up and saying "You wanna play a game?". No, I just want some of those Potato Skins from the vending machine.

Well door here we go again. I once again have to leave the studio, and you're going to shock me.

Just remember if we ever give you away in a contest, I'm rooting for a toothpick factory to win.


T Rav