#1 with a bullet. It seems the slower people are, the more space they take up on the fucking sidewalk. Jeez, people I'm trying to get the hell out of work and go do the things that fulfill my life, but noooooo. You just have to walk at our snail's pace, and just when I'm about to pass, stop and move in the direction I was going to pass you - just so you can look at something stupid...like exchange rates in the bank window!!! Where the hell are you going? Molassesville???
God, I f-ing hate people. When I am king, slow people will be the first against the wall.
Oh man, gesticulating cell phone guy is so me. *SHAME* I can't help it, I talk with my hands. To the cell phone.
Oh my god, Francis. This has nothing to do with your post, but BoingBoing posted this thing on elementary schoolers drawing literal interpretations of idioms.
You have a fair amount of fame an adulation here in my apartment. Of course, I read your blog every day and one of my roommates was yet another Modern Humorist flunkie. I tell cool people to read you, and some of them have started I think.
It's a start.
Tom: I have divided sidewalk blockers into three categories. There are amblers, millers, and meanderers. Amblers just walk slower than any human was ever meant to walk. Perhaps they are sightseeing, or perhaps they simply have not noticed the invisible minimum walking speed limit signs posted everywhere in New York. Millers are not walkers, but the sort of people that stand around in groups outside a restaurant or bar or something chatting -- except they don't stand still, and they always expand to fill the available sidewalk space. Meanderers are the people who are unable to walk in a straight line and just keep drifting from side to side when you're trying to pass them.
I welcome further refinements to my classification system.
Cyn: But you have pink hair. People with pink hair do not walk slowly. It's a scientific fact.
Tanis: Awesome indeed. I especially like "A chip off the old block." Reminds me of Monday's cartoon, when I very nearly drew a rectangle in panel three with an arrow pointing to it that said "Pretend I drew the Louvre here."
Brian: Thanks for the proselytizing. If other people wish to emulate Brian, you might consider memorizing this phrase: "This blog changed my life." (Substitute "book" for "blog" if you are plugging my book.)
Amen to #3. Corollary: use of classical music themes as ring tones should be restricted to those capable of performing them on musical instruments (who would likely have the good taste NOT to use such tones).
I tried to post another rant - not sure if it went through (stupid day job computer).
I have an addition. The Magnet Walker. These are generally people who are walking just like you and me (i.e. at a normal rate of speed), but somehow decide, AT THE LAST POSSIBLE MOMENT, that as they are passing by me, they would really rather be in the same space I'm in. It's uncanny. I think I have the world's greatest inner magnet. Tess has noticed this too, so I'm not being paranoid or self-obsessed.
Well I am self-obsessed, but for altogether different reasons.
(if the last post went through, trash this one - no need to bitch and moan twice on your lovely blog)
Oh good, someone else feels the same way. I was beginning to think that I simply hated people.
If you think #1 is bad, try moving to Boston after living your entire life in NYC and the tri-state area. Here they don't know the meaning of the words "move yer ass."
Because I could go off on this topic for days (and because this just happened to me), I've got another category for you. The "people who look one way but walk another for a very long time thereby making you have to move out of their way even though you are looking where you are going" walkers.
The most I can muster up for them is a quick "watchit" and a dirty look.
argh. I hate Amblers- although I admit we have lots to see in Las Vegas (how much cheap,neon,buttcheek,fake boob,hot pink,man-tan,rhinestone can you really take???) I think there should be lanes in these places, but even if there were...noone would think THEY were the problem. Thus I only go downtown when absolutely necessary and spend the rest of my time filing my hot pink, rhinestone encrusted fake nails.
As I was reading this, I was like "O my god Francis Heaney and me are like the same person... I want all those things too!" But aparantly, they are common wishes.
BTW, Francis you have now officially taken on the responsibility of my daily entertainment, so no more skipping Six Things, k?
Oh yeah, PS, do you really look like that?
You may judge my self-caricature skillz for yourself here.
Oh, and Tom, yes! The wrong-way-lookers! How I hate them. The way it usually happens to me is: Someone is coming out of a store/restaurant/whatever. They look one way as they come out the door. Then they walk the other direction while still looking back over their shoulder. Madness! I've gotten better at avoiding them, though, after so many years of practice.
Mary: though the lines of his head are actually connected in real life, he's a little sketchier in appearance.