I’ve developed a distinct dislike of slow walkers.
You know them. They dawdle in front of you at the most inopportune times.
I mostly encounter them in airports when I am trying to get to my gate. They look around the airport in awe as if they have never seen one before.
I wonder, “What are they looking at?” as they drift in front of me, seemingly fascinated by everything along their path.
I am amazed that they aren’t stopping to take pictures of the magazine/candy store or the electronics kiosk as if they have just discovered a new species of mammal.
Slow walkers are everywhere, especially when I am trying to get somewhere else fast. Which is often.
I try to veer around them, but they wander into my path.
At times, I see an opening to speed past them. I get ready, but then other slow walkers coming the opposite way block my path.
I am left literally dragging my feet to slow down to make sure I don’t run into them or I negotiate the trajectory to skirt between them like its the Daytona 500.
Of course, if I do get past them, I just run into the next set of slow walkers a few steps in front of the last set. Drat!
Sometimes, it seems impossible that anyone could walk that slow. I start believing they are doing it on purpose just to screw with me.
But, no, they actually do walk that slow.
And then, it struck me that. . . “well maybe I should walk slow too.”
I slow my gait. I begin to look around more.
“I hadn’t noticed that cafe before. Perhaps I will stop on my way back,” I think.
Honestly, where am I trying to get to that won’t be there in 60 more seconds?
“Perhaps I am missing the journey trying to get to the station,” I say.
At that moment, someone hurriedly cuts in front of me on the way to somewhere else shaking her head at me.
“Slow walker” she mutters as she passes me.
Indeed.
Sometimes, it is good to just take my time.
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