Empathy for Automatic Doors

            I remember this one xkcd comic about automatic doors and feeling like the comic really resonated with me because I had always felt this way. Like I was inconveniencing the door by making it open when I didn't even actually want to come in and visit.
            I now find myself in a job where I walk by a Staples almost every time I work. After walking by on several occasions and feeling pretty bad because I kept making the door open when I didn't actually want to go inside I started trying to see how far away from the door I had to get before I was out of range. Before the door would know that I wasn't coming by for a visit and wouldn't whisk open hopefully. It turned out that if I walked just to the outer side of the inner segment of the sidewalk and I didn't have anything in the hand on the inside I could easily walk past without making the door open.
            I was pretty satisfied with walking by far enough away that I didn't make the door open. Until I saw that many times people ahead of me would needlessly cause the sliding door to whistfully trundle open, inviting them in, only to reluctantly close when the person had passed. And I still felt bad for the automatic door because even though I didn't taunt it and make it open when I wasn't going in I never actually went in. So when I started selling things online and I need bubble envelopes and packing tape I had a good excuse to go into Staples and make the automatic door feel like it had fulfilled its purpose.
            Alright automatic door-makers, I'm on to you. You made me feel sympathetic toward the door so much that I actually spent money at Staples instead of buying online. I promise I'll stop and shop when I walk by an automatic door if you make them stop sounding so sad when they operate.