The Entourage

Confession by Anon


This happened 16 years ago.
I stared at a leaf that swirled helplessly in the wind after the taxi made a turn into W******* R***. Before I knew it, G***** C********** P********'s porter opened the taxi door and greeted me with a warm welcome.
I was on a business trip in Bangkok. Since it was my first visit to Thailand, my husband joined me midway through my trip so that we could explore the city together before heading back. After dropping my stuff at the hotel room, I made my way to a cafe at the hotel's lobby to wait for him to get in.
The waiter hesitated when I asked to be seated at a quiet corner (I needed somewhere private place to complete some urgent work priorities). To my surprise, the waiter seated me on the inside of the long walkway with the quivering leaf I saw earlier on. People can access the walkway from the cafe through a pair of swing doors. But the walkway was empty that evening and the doors remained tightly shut (at least for the most part).
My husband arrived shortly and seated beside me, waiting for me to be done. When I was finally done with my work, I gazed at the empty walkway outside and wondered why it was so windy that evening.
Suddenly, the doors started to glide open outwards in slow-motion, in a creepy sort of manner and stopped halfway. A strong gust of wind went past me. Weird as it sounds, it felt as though invisible servants were at each side, opening and holding on to the doors for 'them'. Yes, 'them' - Because I literally felt an entourage float through the doors, past the back of my seat, and into the aisle that led towards the front where the crowded part of the cafe was. 
The door closed gingerly as the entourage moved away from my area and the wind ceased almost at the same time.
I was in complete shock and looked to my husband for validation but he just dismissed my experience and urged me to leave the cafe quickly. 
Was the door automatic? Was it faulty? I don't recall it opening on its own any other time when I was seated there. The wind blowing against my skin indicated that the flow of air was moving towards the door, and if the wind was what had caused the door to open, it would be from the other direction. Why did the doors open only half of the way and then stay stationary? Why was the timing so 'zhun' in that the wind ceased at about the same time the doors closed? These questions played in my mind like a broken record when we toured Bangkok that weekend.
As we went about the day, it became clear that my husband also witnessed the incident but was only too eager to let it slide. Not for me though. 
So right before we boarded the taxi to the airport, I made a dash towards the swing doors to check things out.
There were no visible electrical controls. It wasn’t an automatic door. They were heavy, sturdy metal framed glass doors. The sort that required one to use significant body weight to push against so as to open them... the eerie breeze that night wouldn’t be strong enough to blow the doors open, let alone held it in place.

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