Slow walkers are inherently creepy if they are young, puzzling if middle aged, sad if elderly. The most threatening slow walkers are those guys in the gym who move in deliberate short steps in between apparatus. You can smell them inching toward you, flexing, just begging for an excuse to flatten you. Their glare is not something you challenge. As they saunter past, you breath a sign of relief and return to bench pressing your 60 pounds.
The obvious offenders are tourists spreading across the sidewalk, texting or taking pictures. At least there is a rationale there. But perfectly healthy adults who simply are moving at an unacceptably, relaxed pace have no excuse. It's not like they're pushing a shopping cart or stroller. There they are, moseying along, head turning side to side, enjoying the scenery and weather. There should be a law limiting that sort of thing to between 6 and 7AM.
I love grandparents as a whole, but you simply cannot take them anywhere, especially if there's snow on the ground. It takes them so damn long to get in and out of the car. You go half a block and already they're far behind. And then you get that weak, whiny voice--wait for me! You have to double back and then the whole thing starts again.
I know children will walk faster as they mature, but do they have to stop and examine every little thing? Know what I've noticed? Priests walk faster than rabbis. Bellboys are faster than gas pumpers. Aunts are slower than cousins. Letterman is faster than Leno. No body's as slow as Abe Vigoda. Not even Betty White, who takes eons to reach the stage for her latest award. Can we declare a moratorium on Betty White awards?
No comments:
Post a Comment