In a similar vein to yesterday’s post, on today’s commute I was musing on the personality traits of slow walkers. One might, upon initial consideration of this subsection of the population, assume they are more relaxed and happy-go-lucky individuals than the average population; those who feel no need to rush through life and instead take things at their own pace. Fast walkers, by contrast, could be perceived as more uptight, stressed out and highly strung, always rushing from place to place and chasing their tails to try and get things done in time. As someone with both feet firmly in the fast walking camp I can’t say I entirely disagree with the latter assertion. But a further theory I’d like to throw into the mix is that some (not all, as I grant you it’s unfair to label a whole group in the same way) slow walkers are actually a) inherently lazy, b) lacking in direction and purpose in their lives and c) wasting valuable hours just getting from A to B. Don’t get me wrong, walking can be a pleasurable pursuit in its own right when done on holiday in the Lake District (or similar), but what possesses people to walk at funeral procession speed when they are walking to the tube station after work will never, I’m afraid, make sense to me. And that, dear readers, is all I have to say on the matter.
I’d already decided that today’s post would be about my latest pet peeves, but as I sit down to type this another one is being added to the list; scorned foreign gay lovers who are oblivious to the social faux pas of solidly hammering upon their (presumably now ex) boyfriend’s door for twenty minutes, interspersed with five solid minutes of doorbell ringing and pathetic pleading to be let in to explain. What makes this even more annoying is the fact it was my own boyfriend who inadvertently let the crazy perpetrator of this socially unacceptable act into the building, as he was heading out to catch a train.
Crazy scorned foreign gay lovers aside (I realise now how specific that particular peeve sounds but believe me, if you were sitting here listening to him pounding down the front door of the flat below you would, I’m certain, sympathise), the two peeves I specifically wish to reference today are as follows:
- Women who wear tights (particularly black ones) in hot weather
- Cyclists who cycle on the pavement
Male readers of this blog (no offence intended) may lack the capacity to fully understand how vexing the first of these points is for relatively normal women like me. Living in a country where we’re lucky to get a month of really warm weather out of every twelve, I simply cannot fathom why anyone would choose to keep their lower limbs swathed in clammy, cloying fibres when they could afford them the brief freedom of shooting the breeze sans inhibition. It makes no logical sense – and, what’s more, it looks ridiculous.
Then there are these bloody cyclists who ride rough shod over the pavement, clearly not having grasped the fact they are not, in fact, pedestrians. Don’t they see the road beside them? Have they never learned that people on wheels use roads whilst people without walk on the side? That’s why they call it the side walk, you cretins! And not the side cycle! I’ll admit there are some cycle lanes that do encroach on pavements, but those are clearly marked and designated. I take no issue with people using them. It’s the ones who cycle on normal pavements who really get my goat. And the worst thing about them is the way they meander and weave amongst the walkers, as if they’re actually courting a rush hour beating (not that I condone violence, but honestly, these people test my patience almost beyond measure).
So there you have it, Belle’s Pet Peeves of the Day. Maybe I should make this a regular feature, it’s really quite cathartic.