I have been watching a lot of crime/investigation shows lately, and it has been messing with me.
No, it’s not the rampant gore that gets to me, thanks to my palms-to-eye coordination. Those babies are always on standby, deployed efficiently, at the slightest cue from the suspenseful background score.
It’s the doors.
Yes, you read it right. I did mean doors.
So, here is how it rolls, someone gets some actionable intelligence, and they head to bust somebody- at their temporary residence or some rendezvous point. Now, this temporary meeting point could be a dingy apartment, a fancy house, a dilapidated house in the country, a stellar spacious condo in a high rise… you get the point.
What almost inevitably happens is that someone breaks through the door – mostly without so much effort as a kick. One kick, and bam! – the door comes off!
It does not matter if the person kicking it was a teenager, an average young man, or a mature adult, so long as they are the hero in the scene.
The debris from that kick is quite a sight to behold, it makes me question all the science I thought I knew growing up. All those memorization nights with “force equals mass into acceleration” come to taunt me. They laugh at me.
One kick, that’s all it takes. Really?
But then I switch back to my art lessons. What fun would it be if you are armed, with a bunch of officers following you, you wait for the ‘dangerous and armed’ criminal to answer the door for you?
That would probably switch the scene from intense suspense and thrill to comedy-esque. Maybe?
I look deeper and realize it’s just plain old jealousy. Just because I can’t smash a door by kicking it hard once doesn’t mean everyone else can’t. Maybe an average person does have it in them to bring a door down with a simple power of a kick. After being driven up the wall with all this door business, I have an epiphany.
When life gives you lemons, just kick the door. The closest door you can find.
And preferably at midnight when everyone is fast asleep, for sweet vengeance.
Friends of Words 