What The F*** Is Your Problem Post (from my other blog)

Monday, April 07, 2008

What the f*** is your problem? (walking/driving)
Current mood: annoyed

So...I've decided to start a new series of posts, and yes, I am calling it: What the f*** is your problem? I had a really rough week and sent an email to some of my closest friends saying I was writing a new book with that line as my subtitle. But I've decided that instead of writing a book, I am going to just use the title for a series of blogs - and then, maybe the book will write itself (so to speak).

So here goes...my first entry for...
WHAT THE F*** IS YOUR PROBLEM?
Why is it that I always find you walking in front of me at a turtle's pace on a gray, cold day, in the middle of the sidewalk in New York City? Have you no urgency in your step? It's not a balmy summer's day, it's chilly and miserable out. Don't you have somewhere to be or someplace to go? Now granted, my mother was always telling me to "stop and smell the roses," but come on people, in the middle of the day in the MIDDLE of the sidewalk. I'm all for daudling when I'm in a park, or at the museum, or in the country, or in Paris, but give me a break. If you want to meander in the busy sidewalks of Manhattan, with no intention of going anywhere, at least pull yourself to the side or enter a building or something. And this is not intended for tourists or homeless people or disabled people...you I can forgive. It is the NYC regulars who are just doing this to PISS ME OFF. And I attract you don't I? I'm in a hurry to get to a meeting, or a rehearsal or a performance or a dinner party (but to be truthful, when I am walking, I like to move the journey along even when I'm not in a hurry) and you find yourself to my path and go as slowly as you can, normally in a situation where I can't even go around you. And more often then not, you stop at some point and I almost smash into you. So please, do me a favor, walk with a little pace in your step. I know you have places to go, home to the family; off to a meeting; catching the subway to a game or parade or street fair; to a class; to a trist, to a figtht; to a rally...whatever. Just go there. Oh, and while I'm on the "people who literally cross my path subject"...if you're coming towards me, please, oh please, let's try and pass eachother on the left. We're not in Europe. Notice the roads, notice the escalators...we pass eachother on the left, whenever possible. And if you choose to force me to pass on the right and then swear at me or huff at me as if I am in your way...I may just turn around and smack you. All of this however...leads immediately to my second, WHAT THE F*** IS YOUR PROBLEM?
You are the same people who drive 150 miles per hour aren't you? No, I mean it. You walk like turtles to your cars and then you have to make up for lost time so you talegate me, whip around me at speeds that should be reserved for the Daytona 500 or when you're playing video games, and then you throw yourself in front of me without even touching your directional signal. And almost ALWAYS, I pull up next you, or behind you at the next light, or when the traffic clogs. You didn't get there any quicker than I did, but you endagered my life, your life and countless others. Why must you try and prove you are Mario Andretti when you drive? Speed limits have a purpose. Don't get me wrong...if we're in a 55 and I'm going 57 and you come up behind me, keep your distance, change lanes with your signal and go around me at 60, I can live with that. But when you race up behind me at 85, flash your lights and then play "poll position" on the highway...I secretly hope that you will be the car I pass, pulled over by the cops or off in the ditch. I don't want you to get hurt, just scared a little. Now most of us have sped from time to time. God knows I have. But even when I speed, I try to be careful and courteous of those on the road and I really try NOT to speed. Maybe if you walked a little faster, you could drive the speed limit and it would be a win-win situation!