The Front Door

As I walked into work this morning, the security guard wished me a good morning as I walked by, as she usually does. She acted as if she knew me, which I thought was cute. Of the thousands of people that work in the building, she couldn't possibly actually remember me every day. She is just being polite, I'm sure.

Then it occurred to me.

I'm probably one of only a few people that actually enter the building through the front door. The vast majority of people drive into the garage and then enter the building through the parking structure from below. I walk right in the front door, which is usually reserved for smoking breaks and lunch walks to Union Station.

As someone that travels almost exclusively on foot, by bike and via transit, I always get to use the front door -- a concept that has almost become a novelty. I get to experience all sorts of things that other people don't, like the near-monopoly I have on the morning greetings of the security guard. I understand the context and the interconnectedness of the neighborhoods I frequent. I see the world -- a world that is increasingly fashioned so people can spend as little time as possible outside of their car or home.

From the street, everything is better. I pass storefronts to enter Coffee Girls from Southwest Boulevard, not from the parking lot behind it. I hop off the bus to enter Dragonfly from its pleasant frontage, which is good for more than just decoration, as opposed to the back lot passageway. I walk right in the front door of Lulu's instead of the little ramp in the back, facing the parking. I didn't even know that Harling's had a back entrance until recently, effectively hiding all of the activity from Main and funneling the patrons to their cars out back.

Most people don't choose to experience the world like this, which might explain why I get so much more excited about the built environment. Most people don't even notice that friendly security guard, either.

The front door is reserved for the distinguished guests and, in getting to see the world so much more vividly than those who drove up to the back entrance, I feel like one.