Saturday, 16 May 2009

Slow Walkers

I think this is a fairly universal annoyance. I mean, with only one hour for lunch who wants to lose five minutes to watching somebody shuffle in front of them?

What I don't understand is how people actually manage to walk as slowly as they do. In situations where I am unable to overtake the person due to being in some kind of pavement chicane section, I find it almost impossible to keep the same pace without actually stopping every few steps. Some offenders are old, which is forgivable. Some are female, usually hobbled by ridiculous heels. And then there's the extra jolly, cuddly folk. Aren't you in a hurry to get to your sugared-lard sandwich buckets, you heavy-breathing land-whales?

Of all these, the worst variety is The Wanderer, the one who veers all over the pavement, stymying your attempts to get ahead. It's too early to be drunk, isn't it? No, actually the worst variety is The Cork. You know this one, they bump into someone they haven't seen for fifteen minutes and just have to stop at the end of the escalator or the narrowest point in the thoroughfare and do that keening, toothy-grimaced greeting that goes with the pseudo-European double hug.

Since it now seems de rigueur for killjoy city planners to divide the streets into cycle lanes, can you fuckers spare a minute and paint a line on the pavement? A wide, slow lane for wide, slow people and the narrow fast lane for people who don't apparently have their ankles chained together.

Also, I suggest giving people in wheelchairs harpoons. What they can catch, they can eat.