It's Friday morning, I'm on my eleventh day of working overtime in a row, and I haven't quite dug my heels into the jug of coffee I'm carrying. Needless to say I'm not 100% quite yet. As I approach my building I catch up with this lady. This fucking lady. 5' 2" and the size where it's apparently acceptable to just wear blankets as clothes. I don't have anything against large people. Are you happy? Then who gives a shit? This lady was not a happy lady.
It was a half decent day considering it's May in Minnesota. The Sun was out, I was only shivering a little, and not in all that much of a hurry. With a building to my right and a van parked on the sidewalk to the left, I didn't have much choice but to match her pace for the remaining 20 feet to the door. I imagine 20 feet can feel like an eternity for someone supporting the weight of your average peewee hockey team, so I can understand why it probably felt like I was back there for a while. I also wasn't paying all that much attention and I walk pretty fast so I caught up to her. Like I said, I'm a little out of it, and who doesn't have their face constantly buried in their phone playing Candy Crush? Anyway, we approached the door to my building which she was also apparently going to so OF COURSE this means I'm following her. "Is there a reason you're following me?" she asked as her blankets flapped in the breeze. "Going to the same place apparently." I said. "You really crawl up a person's ass." she replied.
Now children, a thing I've picked up on in my years is no one gives a shit about you. They don't care what you do, they won't notice how you did your hair this morning, and the person on the bus with their face kind-of -sort-of-in-your-direction-if-you-squint-your-eyes isn't looking at you. So, the odds of someone following you are extremely low. "If it wasn't so big, maybe I'd have a choice to go around." I snapped back. Unhappy blanket lady found this offensive. I'd have given her a break if maybe she crossed the street in the middle of the block and I did the same, or if I had been following her for two blocks, or if she did three laps around a light pole and I was still there, but no, 20 feet with no way around. "As much as I'd like to, I can't walk through walls or people, so as long as you're waddling in the middle of the sidewalk I'm kinda stuck. No one is following you." I continued. To myself. After she'd gone. Got to get faster at that.
