Two bitchy men and a hag Sometimes I wonder what possesses a person to bitch at a complete stranger. I had the misfortune of being at the receiving end on three occasions. The first two, both delivered by men, happened on the first and second days in London. The first when we returned to the hotel to properly check in after lunch. I was entering the revolving doors behind what looked like a business man, when all of a sudden the automatic doors stopped. I gave them a small push, maybe they weren’t as automatic as they claim to be, when that monkey in a suit turned half around, eyebrows…