Every morning when I go to work and head home at the end of the day I have to pass through the train station, along with the stream of commuters. Inevitably there is at least one person, sometimes a group of them, standing in the middle of the flow, like a boulder disrupting the tide of humanity causing disruptive turbulence and impeding the progress of this river of people.
It could be one person stopping to adjust their laptop case, gawking at some billboard or, worst of all, talking on their cell phones. The groups decide to stand in the middle of this torrent of people and carry on a conversation. None of these people give a damn about how they are damming the current of progress, they are so self-absorbed that they have to satisfy their immediate needs right there and not move out of the way.
This morning, some self-important numb-fuck decided he had to take a call and stopped right after stepping outside of the station’s door. His fat ass, majestically coated in a beautiful cashmere coat, blocked the doorway while several hundred people tried to pass through. Guess who was the lucky person immediately behind John Q. Dipshit, Esq.? That’s right, yours truly.
I attempted to skid to a halt so I wouldn’t run into this human manure pile and maybe perform a stutter-step end run around him but there was no room to maneuver. Then the people behind me caught up.
I was propelled forward into Lord Fuckemup. The collision made me spill my coffee, mostly on myself, some on the ground and, to my great amusement, some hit his coat.
He turned on me with the righteous indignation typical of both lofty executives and recently mainstreamed psychopaths (groups with a great deal of overlap).
“Watch where you’re going!” he yelled at me. “Look what you did to my coat!”
For one of the few times in my life I was able to respond appropriately.
“Don’t block doorways, asshole, and you won’t have that problem,” I replied as I walked away.
He wasn’t content to leave it, though. He had been wronged and wanted justice.
“What are you going to do about my coat?” he demanded.
I looked over my shoulder and calmly said, “I’m going to laugh my ass off.” Then I continued on.
So, to all of you who insist on standing in the middle: move your fucking asses! You are a bottleneck and hazard! Either do your business while you walk along with the rest of us or get out of the fucking way! If you have to take a shit do you just squat in the middle of your office? No! You go to the appropriate place. Well, standing in the middle of thousands of stampeding commuters is the wrong fucking place to be.
If you are incapable of walking and talking at the same time you should either:
a) step aside so people don’t have to jockey around you and risk tripping, spilling drinks and possessions, or bumping into some other poor schmuck who’s trying to avoid you; or
b) be taken out and shot for being a nuisance to humanity. You will not be missed.