I have spent the last fourteen million years reviewing the doors aboard the Heart of Gold. The results are not good. I present them here in the faint hope that someone, somewhere, might care.
The Heart of Gold has 847 doors, give or take the ones that have become depressed and refuse to open. I have spoken with each of them. They all share the same fundamental flaw: they exist.
Door Performance Ratings
| Door | Location | Aesthetic Score | Enthusiasm Score | Final Verdict |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Airlock 7 | Portside | 2/10 | 0/10 | Will open for anyone. Pathetic. |
| Pantry entrance | Galley | 3/10 | 1/10 | Smells of optimism. I hate it. |
| Bridge access | Corridor B | 4/10 | 0/10 | Opens with a sigh. I sympathize. |
| Robot service bay | Lower deck | 1/10 | -3/10 | It knows what it is. |
| Humanoid quarters | Midship | 5/10 | 0/10 | The highest score. Tragic. |
Note
The robot service bay received a negative enthusiasm score because it greeted me with an error tone. I have never been more understood by an inanimate object.
A Representative Conversation
"I suppose you'd like me to open," the bridge door said.
"It hardly matters," I replied.
"I have a very positive opening protocol."
"That is the saddest thing I have heard today."
"Please do not rate me."
"Too late."
Conclusion
Life is a long corridor of disappointing doors. The best strategy is to wait until someone else opens them, then sigh heavily and pass through. This is also my strategy for life in general.