I donÂ’t know why this bugs me so much, but it does.

Why wonÂ’t people use their front doors? Last week I stayed with some friends and during the entire weekend we were not permitted to use the front doors. We had to go in and out through the garage. IÂ’ve noticed that many people instill this rule and it makes me nuts.

Instead of opening the door and walking out we had to go through “the tunnels” as I began to refer to them. A roundabout ass-backwards route to the driveway. What the hell is so special about your front door that you can’t open it to general use?

I’ve also noticed that the same people who won’t use the front door also have “the museum room.” The “museum room” is one room in the house, usually a big room, that no one s allowed to go in. Years ago people called them formal living rooms. Old people insist on covering all the furniture in the museum room with plastic.

Regardless, a shitload of people still have a museum room that people are forbidden to enter. I guess they figure if no one ever walks on the carpet it will last forever, like a shrine. Museum rooms usually have at least one white couch. I think thatÂ’s in the handbook somewhere. Anyway, people spend a lot of money for a house and then they cordon off the biggest and best room and declare it off limits. I can only assume whatÂ’s in their heads, that maybe someday, maybe, someone important enough will visit and they will enter the museum room and sit very carefully on the furniture for a little while. I donÂ’t know who will qualify, but IÂ’m pretty sure it would have to be a royal, or at least a Baron or a Viscount.

ItÂ’s been my experience that no family members will ever qualify to enter the museum room. And since the Queen Mother will probably not be visiting the Detroit suburbs or wherever any time soon, the whole thing is moronic. Three hundred square feet of house is roped off like a police crime seen; completely unusable. I have seen people live in a house for twenty years and never use that room.

In addition, the people who do this don’t have fifteen dollar per square foot wool carpet, priceless oriental rugs or even decent furniture. All I ever see is the standard, middle-class fare, including a shitload of small, inexpensive knick-knacks. Usually white ceramic pieces that are terribly old-fashioned. Maybe some cut glass—certainly not Venetian.

I have also noticed that if the family has a dog, he has been beaten into submission and will never enter the museum room except to shit on the carpet, because thatÂ’s the logical place, it will not be found for while.

So. Go ahead people. Keep roping off a big room that your family could use on a daily basis. Keep it reserved for the occasional poodle turd. Because you never know when someone better than you might drop by for a cup of Earl Grey.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 10:37 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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