Like the quality of one's handshake, how one opens a Door says a lot about character.  A solid grip on the handle, a determined push and a consistent and swift outward motion exude an air of confidence and control over life's challenges that cannot but cast the door opener as a beguiling object of desire.  There's also something to be said about having a gentleman in livery graciously holding a door open for you, of course, as it grants a certain status, fleeting and illusory as it may be.  What is completely ego-deflating is for a ragamuffin with no more than a lust for profit to do so in kabuki-like mock subservience, making one feel both completely neutered and resentful at being made to face the uncomfortable reality of our country's socioeconomic disparities. 

One could argue that the same class resentment seethes under the surface of a legitimate doorman's placid exterior, but really, why would you?  At least you only have to tip them once a year.