P.E.: The Slow Walker is Worse Than Puberty

Karla and myself know that there are cities out there, somewhere, away to the west, where driving is de rigueur, where people legitimately say things like "Well, thangs just move SLOWER down heah," and where walking across a parking lot is more exercise than the average resident gets on an average day.

These cities are not secretly hidden inside either New York or Boston.

Which is why, when I'm walking down the street, ably navigating pedestrian traffic, only to suddenly find myself stuck behind a trio of girls with cameras weaving back and forth just enough on the 3-foot wide section of sidewalk they're completely covering to make passing impossible, and then inexplicably stopping to look up at something, so that you're brought up short behind their red-rover line; or maybe in the wake of two waddling townies, their sweatpants proclaiming for them how little they care about the rest of society, thundering along as though everyone else has all the time in the world, too.

The worst part is…well, there are two worst parts. Worst part number 1: everyone thinks they are a fast-enough walker. Almost anyone I talk to immediately spouts a "yeah, I HATE slow walkers. So annoying!" or something of the like. But about 90% of them must be wrong, because I'm always stuck behind effing SOMEONE. Worst thing 2: when you try to politely circumvent the slow walker, say an "excuse me" in your nice, non-descript, non-threatening tone, or walk down the edge of a driveway to whip around them before the sidewalk bottlenecks again, forcing you to slow to an unwanted amble, they look at you as though you've suggested some inappropriate things you want to try with their grandmothers. You can just see it on their faces, the look of disgust, the internal monologue externalized by their expression, "oh my god, what is wrong with this person." Maybe a derisive snort's thrown in there for emphasis.

I know courtesy of the door-holding for a stranger variety is dead, but is it really too much to ask to just get around you? Sigh. At least in car culture, I can curse up a storm in the privacy of my own moving cube when other people slow me down, and once I AM on the street, I'm the only one walking for miles, or at least blocks, around…

-Posted by Jilly