Answer me this; What is wrong with people who ALWAYS, no matter how much time they have, sprint across a zebra crossing either as the green man is turning red, or in between cars as they are passing? They are SO busy they can't bloody wait one minute to not risk their lives playing car bumper tag. Where's the fire?! Where's the naked woman offering herself to them?! Is there a bomb somewhere I need to know about?!
On the positive side...there is a positive side to it. The immensely pleasurable feeling of actually having waited for the green man to lure you over the crossing, and then accidentally catching up with that guy who ran past you like he had a satanic cult meeting to reach. There he is, in all his unhurried glory, not busy at all, just window shopping like the speedy bastard he is. It takes all my inner strength to not give him a sideways knee kick as i pass, but I'm not speedy enough to get away alive.
Friends say I move like a snail, slow, majestic and covered in guck, but atleast I get to stop and eat the roses on the way.
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