Awkward Door Holding

I pull my car into the parking lot. My windows are down, so I can feel the cool fall air and hear the dry leaves crush under my tires. I turn off my ignition and sit there for just a few moments, sipping down the last of my luke-warm "morning ride" coffee and catching the last few minutes of KQ's 8am interview. I get out of the car. I grab my backpack heavy from a stone-age laptop and workout attire. I'm going to the gym over lunch. I begin the long walk toward the building door. I'm tired. I'm cold. I hate carrying things. I just want to go back to bed. As I get closer to the glass entrance, I notice another "Nine-to-Fiver" walking alongside the building and headed toward the same destination. Ugh. He is about 50 feet in front of me, looking chipper, with his shirt half-untucked and tie slightly crooked. Ugh. As he reaches for the metal door handle, he notices the reflection of a young woman approaching him from a distance. Ugh. He proceeds, as a gentleman would, to open the door and hold it there; just for little old me, who is still a full 20 feet behind him. Ugh. Here we go. There is no way I can continue to slowly trudge my ass to the door, as someone is now waiting for me. Staring at me. Just trying to be a nice guy. I pick up speed in my already uncomfortable heels. I do an awkward half-walk-half-sprint, swinging my stick straight arms back and forth as I go. Trying to keep my packpack, lunch and purse in tact without tripping. I get to the door. I'm out of breath. I smile and say "thank you." You just made my morning so much easier. Moral of the story: if someone is more than 5 seconds behind you, don't hold the door for them. It's not that heavy...