Or outside, when you’re on the way out.

I can understand large buildings needing small entrances for security/control, to keep the heat/cold in/out, or simply not to detract from their structural integrity. But people will walk out though the narrow doorway of a crowded shop or (this is a favourite) railway station and stop dead. It’s as if they haven’t planned the next step. Where did I want to go next? How do I find a taxi? I’ll just wait right here with my enormous backpack until I see my friend. The presence, the very existence of anyone wanting to come through behind them is always a surprise.

A diminishing number still decide that two inches outside the doorway is far enough to be lighting the cigarette they crave, so they stop for that rutual. Others urgently need to relocate their ticket or wallet into a different pocket or bag, or open a bottle of water, or put on a hat, all activities that can’t be done on the move. And occasionally a parent or parents will have to go through the palaver of unfolding a stroller and settling a child in it, there, oblivious.

You’d be right to say He’s going on a bit about this, isn’t he? Yes — because I remember doing it myself once. I felt stupid and a little guilty (although I always feel a little guilty). But it was only once.