Whilst driving through a bustling city. . .

I find it quite the annoyance to have to deal with pedestrians who want to cross the street. Of course, this is never the case when I myself am the pedestrian wanting to cross the street but let's be honest here -- who DOESN'T find the common pedestrian's mentality of  "I'm entitled to cross the street. I'm walking here. . Pedestrians DO always have the right of way, ya know."  Well to this I say: "And my 5,000+ pound vehicle will flatten your ass. . . choose your battles, you witless swine."

I always find it extremely amusing when you reach a point in the road where there is a crosswalk of death awaiting to interrupt your day and a lowly street-crosser decides to make their presence known to you, the driver. However, there are differences in these types of alerts.

First, you can have the "Oh . . . yeah! Oops! ahh! Jeez. I see you, I really do. I'm so sorry you had to slow down. I'm hurrying! I promise! ahhhHhhHHGGghhGghhh fiddle stickssss!!" They always seem so humble, as if to imply that you are extremely troubled to have to wait for them to cross the street -- but you know this is bullshit. They just don't want you to hate them. For this type of person, the person starts on the far end of the crosswalk and proceeds to feign an attempt to hasten themselves across the crosswalk. For this maneuver, the person walks at a normal pace but moves his or her arms in a quick power walking motion. The overall effect is that of an over worked wind-up toy. Maybe one of those monkeys with the cymbals. This person might be the most entertaining to me. They think they're succeeding in making the driver think that they're walking that much faster, but they really just look like effin' morons.

Then, of course, there's the annoying attitude of "excuse me, lowly driver, do you now see that I am TRYING to walk across the street? I'm not entirely sure that you truly grasp the gravity of the situation here -- my very existence depends upon me crossing this street and how DARE you threaten that. For this I'm going to scoff at you." Oh by the way, this person is usually on their cell phone and often makes a face like your mom made when you were seven years old and being loud and "disrespekful" while she's on the phone. They'll point to their cell phone and make this face like "CANTYOUSEEIMONTHEPHONE?!" and give you a nice stare down the entire 3.2 minutes it takes their sorry ass to cross the street. I always find it amusing that they act like they have some place important to be like... oh, a rabies vaccination appointment or a blood transfusion, but if you watch them closely they're legit just going to get a bagel and schmear. (yeah, droppin' the Jewish terminology. Deal with it.) While this pedestrian type is the most annoying to me, I do find it funny that you can literally see the feeling of triumph and justice on their face when they reach the other side, which is you know -- completely ridiculous.


I've also rather enjoyed seeing soccer moms with their six kids try to cross the street. They act like they're fleeing from an alien invasion or they're trying to smuggle the Von Trapp family across the Swiss Alps. They'll be pushing a stroller and will stop and like air-traffic-control the rest of their kids to safety, keep jogging with the stroller, and then realize they've left Gretel or some other forgettable kid on the other side, run back over there and then wave about 5,000 "sorries" to the drivers. I always feel sorry for her, so I can never really get too mad -- I just get a little irritated. Then I think of her in a Fraulein Maria costume and have a nice little chuckle.

Quite possibly my favorite type of street-crosser is the arrogant "you can't hit me because I say you can't" pedestrians. These peoples' actions are usually very broad and loud, and they will literally go to any means possible to let the drivers know that they're there to keep from being turned into roadkill. If you still don't have a clear picture in your head, think of one of those TV shows like Dance Moms, Real Housewives of Pleasantville, or maybe Mob Wives. Now think of how any one of these women react when someone tells them they can't do something. This particular pedestrian will walk across the street with their hand outstretched in a crossing-guard's position towards the cars that have stopped for them, their shopping bags, purses and/or childrens' leashes in the other hand. I always find it ironic that they do this. It's almost like they think that their hand has some kind of mystic force or forcefied coming from it that will keep any transformer cars at bay and keep them safe. To them I say: "Your arrogant stupidity serves as a stronger shield from my car than your hand."


The worst. THE WORST. experience while on the streets of a bustling city is an event that I like to call "Mass Exodus."

Before the Mass Exodus, you (for some reason) feel a little. . . kind. Warm hearted. . . .you know, not so shitty. For whatever reason, you decide to let a kind pedestrian cross the street. You motion for them with the universal sideways hand-wave, and then all of the sudden. Out of nowhere. Out of the mist. From the depths of a dark alley, a crowd of about 500 people decide that they want to cross the street too. You have no idea where these people came from, nor do you have any idea of why the hell they have to travel in such a large herd but it is. INFURIATING. when Mass Exodus happens. And possibly the worst part of it all is that the entire crowd decides to walk the crosswalk as if they're walkin down to the river to get baptized and singin' spirituals.

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I'd like to take the time to apologize for being off the blog since January. It's not fair to my readers but above all, it's not fair to me. For I believe that out of everyone, I get the biggest kick out of my wit. (I'm imagining myself sitting in a wing-back chair with a sport coat on and a pipe in my mouth saying this to all six of my readers)

I'd also like to take the time to introduce the new title to my blog: REAL TALK. Now let me explain the concept of "real talk:" I have recently began using this phrase before I gossip, or before I say something that may come off as. . . hurtful. However, I don't mean to offend, I simply speak the truth. Therefore I use "real talk" as a disclaimer of sorts and identify the area that we speak in as a Safe Place, or as if to say "dont judge me, but..." or "let's be honest here. . ." or maybe "Holy Eff, did you hear. . . " But REAL TALK, I usually use it for the last of those options.