Wednesday, January 28, 2015

How to Walk

The woman trudging in front of me as I walk down Flatbush Avenue is killing me. Her drift back and forth across the sidewalk has all the seasick roll of a ship braving massive waves in an invisible storm, with none of the majesty or drama.

We reach the subway station at the same time, and she trundles into my path once again, her idiot bulk thwarting any attempt to pass and walk a normal speed. I take a small measure of satisfaction at the bottom of the stairs when she hits a wet patch of ice and almost goes ass over teakettle as she makes a "whoop" noise, but my schadenfreude is short lived as I hit the same patch and almost go down myself, making the same noise as I do so.

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