Running down the escalator this morning, I spot the bane of anyone with a touch of the Monday Morning Tardiness: The Left-Side Stander. I charge down the stairs, stand directly behind her and abrubtly blurt "excuse.me." only for her to take a half-step to the right as she turns around to gawk at me from the comfort her cocoon-like world of selfish isolation. Never missing the opportunity to punish the oblivious, I squeeze my way past her, knocking her bag off her shoulder with my own, only to notice that her other hand was firmly attached to the forearm of the man on her right carrying a red-tipped white cane.
The rest of my commute, I tread carefully, keeping eyes keen for cracks in the sidewalk and maintaning a zigzag path in all efforts to avoid errant lightning bolts or other acts of a vengeful god.