(On an unrelated note, did you know that the English language contains many delightful pangrams? Such as:
Moving on . . . )
Soon though the bus stop had come, however, it was not my day to make a quick exit. The doors began opening on cue; though they continued opening, their progress was so slow as to barely be perceptible to the human eye. I waited for them long enough that I became a little self-conscious, but they continued opening at a pace that could be generously described as geologic.
As soon as the doors had opened wide enough for my frame to dart between them, I fled. Relieved that I had at last escaped the slowest doors in the world, I calmly trudged home.
(The bus was a '99. Coincidence? I doubt it.)