I mean obviously literal vestibules are still vestibules, not that they have to be, it's perfectly ok and understandable, even respectable, if you started out as vestibule and overtime morphed or evolved into say a haven for a rarely played baby grand piano, or a sanctuary for garbage bags full of presently unloved out of style ski-attire with plans to one day be donated to the poor and unfortunate to be worn on their next ski trip, or possibly even to a place now dominated by the large dog poo no one wants to clean up resulting in the whole family deciding to use the back door, at least until the cleaner comes on Friday.
Yes, vestibule promotion is both fun and exciting, especially for the vestibule itself, after the long suffering loneliness that comes with a life being a mere passageway for people leaving on grand adventures, or returning for sweet homecomings.
Of course the life of a vestibule can be trying at times, yet the rewards are great too. Such as the delightful odors that waft through from a perfumed lady dressed to lighten a town, and smelling equally as illuminating, or the delicious smell of the pizza, or possibly even Chinese food, magically delivered to the home. And who of course could ignore the two or three days a year the vestibule is awoken with activity when several drunks discover that if you scream out curse words they echo into the night. 'CUNT CUNt CUnt Cunt cunt'. Sweet sweet music to the vestibule.
Which reminds me of my original point, why don't more of you things and cunts try being a vestibule? It's the passage way between something good and another thing good. Just for the sake of doing it. Not for the rewards on either side. It's a really nice thing to do.
That awesome. That's generous. That's selfless. That's humanity, unless your a thing that's a vestibule, in which case it's thinganity.
Plus if you do it for long enough and well enough, you too could be the home of a huge dog poo.