Sidewalk hogs

When people ask me if I’d rather have the superpower of invisibility or flight, I always go with flight.

Apparently, I’m already invisible.

At least, it seems that way when I’m strolling through my neighborhood and spy two or three chuckleheads walking toward me. Talking to each other, they don’t give up an INCH of space. They don’t acknowledge my existence. They wouldn’t know if I was tricked out in fetish gear or pointing a flamethrower directly at them. Even a fiendish mime would escape their attention. As these fuckers approach, it becomes a game of sidewalk chicken and I always lose. At the last minute, I veer out of their way, usually tripping into a tree bed or slamming into a building.

No, excuse me.

Far be it from me to interrupt, disturb, or derail you, you self-absorbed dickwads with crapass peripheral vision.

Let’s not forget about the strollers. The last time I walked around a nearby lake, I was dodging mommies and strollers who had greedily spread out across both the foot and wheel lanes. Believe me, I understand these gals' need to get some sun and girl talk during a walk. But let me tell you, they are tough mamas. Infantry units could have used these chicks on their front lines, as they never break formation. I could practically see the tumbleweed as I stared down a fence of Bugaboos and estrogen at high noon. Of course, I wound up looking like a total dick when I tried to break on through to the other side.

It’s time to take action! I’m staging a silent protest and I’m asking you to join me. When you encounter a line of people coming at you, stop. Stand still. Break their synchronized stride and make them flow around you. You can pick up the pace after these wastes of space walk on by. If they bump into you, well, I think you know what to do. You saw The Karate Kid.

Sweep the leg.

(Photo: friendshippoemsonline.com)