(Sounded better than Slothstrian, Slugwalker, etc)

I felt compelled to stray – albeit slightly – from drivers who chap my behind to pedestrians who chap my behind. Who am I talking about? You know – those minuscule-cranial-capacity lowbrows who pedate ever so slowly across the street, parking lot, whatever – basically any surface/area clearly labeled as the domain of vehicles, not people.

Where do these infractions occur? Public streets. Parking lots/decks. Any place where the order of user access should be:

  1. Vehicles
  2. People

You know, just like a sidewalk’s user specifications are, in order:

  1. People
  2. Animals (domesticated or wild) – though granted, they can’t read the signs*, and thus violate the rules constantly
  3. Vehicles – and even here, vehicles on the sidewalk are generally frowned upon (frowned upon after the screaming and leaping out of the way subsides)

My point here is that there is a place for people, and a place for vehicles. Granted, people have to get to places often interrupted by vehicular rights-of-way, and thus must occasionally venture into the automotive domain. But, the basic premise of life on earth is:

  • Vehicles – streets
  • People – sidewalks

Streets are for vehicles, sidewalks are for people (don’t worry, this will be repeated later on, in the event your ADD is kicking in…). The breaking of these etched-in-stone tenets interrupts the very flow of the cosmos, and thus should be religiously avoided whenever possible.

But, as I allowed earlier, human beings have to cross streets from time to time (though, unfairly, vehicles are not allowed the same converse courtesy). Therefore, human beings – logical creatures who have elevated themselves above the bulk of the planet’s flora and fauna through the fortune of opposable thumbs and the ability to negotiate cutlery – should always do their best to limit their interactivity with large, faster-moving, heavily-weighted, potentially-explosive-and-definitely-bone-breaking constructs of fiberglass, metal, rubber, glass, and Corinthian leather.

Unfortunately, a large segment of the human population ignores the previously-stated laws of the universe, and unjustly assumes that their domain extends to all surfaces of our planet.  They amble into the kingdom of combustion engines as if they owned it, in no rush to avoid the conglomerations of death waiting to fulfill their manifold destiny by completing their trip unimpeded by meat puppets.

Now granted, some people simply can’t avoid this protracted process. They are disabled, and can only move so fast, with or without the aid of mechanical devices, seeing-eye animals (who are legally entitled to nudge themselves to the top of the previously-mentioned 1-2-3 list), etc. I have no problem with them. I’m not a complete ass (well, yes I am, but that’s another story).

I speak of the obviously-medulla-oblongata-Novocained morons who meander across the street (inside or outside the chalked pedestrian lane) at a pace rivaled by a similarly-doped Megalonychidae (the aforementioned sloth). They are either:

  • on the phone,
  • think that walking at an accelerated pace makes them appear uncool,
  • have their own exaggerated-hilarious-to-watch strut that they believe makes them irresistible to the opposite sex, or,
  • some combination of all of the above.

Inevitably, these geniuses cross against the light, thus preventing your vehicle from completing its mission. Or, they move so slowly with the light that you are unable to turn at a 90° (or 270°) angle, thus blocking the other eager vehicles behind you. Tempers flare. Engines overheat. Words are exchanged. Physical gestures are bandied about. All because these Jello-heads think that wherever they are, the world stops for them.

Let me repeat the previously-clarified rule of the ROAD – streets are for VEHICLES. If you are a pedestrian, and have to cross one of these streets to get where you need to go, do so in an expeditious manner. Sorry, used big words for that segment of the population that was evidently dropped on their collective heads immediately upon exiting the womb. If you have to cross the street, MOVE YOUR ASS!!!

And, as I have rambled on enough about people and streets, I will only touch briefly on people and parking lots/decks.

You may have just parked your car and are heading into the Wal-Mart Supercenter to pick up your U-Haul’s worth of weekly foodstuffs, Mrs. Duggar. Or, you may have just exited the mall, having stocked up on a slice of frozen-then-heated-in-a-toaster-oven pizza and an Orange Julius. In either case, once you have crossed the inevitable and afore-referred-to lane of two-way traffic that circumnavigates your shopping venue, you need to be hugging your posterior to the bumpers of vehicles on one side of the lane or the other. You do NOT need to be wobbling mid-alley between the gutters like some inebriated bowler taking your sobriety test on lane 13 during Midnight Bowling Night.

As with public streets, the asphalt surfaces are relegated to vehicles, and you should be aware of your place in them, to prevent unfortunate-but-likely-not-prosecutable-because-you’re-an-idiot-vehicular-manslaughter.

I’ll say it one more time for the slow people (literally and mentally). Wipe the drool off your chin, then memorize this – STREETS ARE FOR VEHICLES, SIDEWALKS ARE FOR PEOPLE.

DW

* It’s an old Ron White joke, but putting signs up with deer on them is useless. Deer can’t read.

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