When I was in Manhattan, I felt like Crocodile Dundee. I was definitely out of my element, but enjoyed the adventure of meeting new people, and slipping into the Met without paying.

There was one instance that stood out as a sour point.

Being a gentleman from the country, I decided to hold the door for an old lady. Isn’t that what my mother taught me to do?

So I’m going out of a building, and voila, an old lady is coming out!

I hold the door still for her and smile. She glares at me and starts beating me over the head with her purse.

Wham! Bam! POW!

I took my lumps, let go of the door, and slunk away. Chivalry is definitely dead.

Maybe next time I won’t try it on a revolving door.