I’m Walkin’ Here

I’m a pretty brisk walker, and I hate crowds. This is kind of a Somers Trait, as my brother is basically Juggernaut once he gets a head of steam going; the man will walk through walls and straight past loved ones once he attains escape velocity. I’m not quite that bad, but I do have a tendency to zone out and just walk, and since I walk faster than most people (who seem to largely treat walking a as a quaint notion from long ago) I find myself creeping up behind folks a lot. Because, in case you missed it, y’all are slow. Slow as balls.

As a result, I am an expert in a very rare field: The Way People Behave When You are Coming Up Behind Them.

You’re All Weirdos

I know there’s a lot of instinct and genetically-programmed stuff going on when I am I walking up behind someone on a sidewalk. I know their ancient and primitive fear of predators kicks in when they hear the slap of my Vans on the pavement, and it’s likely my own ancient and primitive wiring that makes me want to murder them when they react in one of three standard ways:

1. The Terrified Glanceback. Sometimes, when I am motoring up behind someone, a man with things to do and no time for their bullshit, they will suddenly turn to look back at me like they’re checking to see if I’m carrying a machete or something, possibly with blood dripping from my mouth. I take this personally.
2. The Wanderers. Sometimes people are completely oblivious, not just to me, but to every other living ambulatory thing in the universe, and as I come up behind them they drift lazily around the sidewalk, making it impossible to pass them as they dance a slow waltz to the crazy music in their heads.
3. The Easily Startled. And sometimes people don’t notice me at all until I spy a weakness in their crazy, random movements and dart past them, and they act like I am David Bowie in Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me and I don’t care if you don’t get that reference.

And then there are the bicyclists. The bicyclists who refuse to ride in the street and insist on either wobbling up behind you and expecting you to step aside so they can pass you, or who hurtle towards you at speed and expect you to make room for them. I’m a petty, passive aggressive guy, and you can imagine the petty, passive aggressive things I do when people insist on biking on the sidewalk. Those people rank just above folks who walk around public places playing music very loudly.

Look, I get that most people regard walking on your own legs as a horrible thing only poors and kidnappers engage in, that normal people drive everywhere or bike everywhere or, I dunno, scooter everywhere. And I get that I am a cranky old man. But dammit, I am walking here.