Walking

I hate walking. And I don't mean walking for exercise, walking on a treadmill or anything like that. I mean just normal, simple, plain 'ol every day, right foot then left foot walking. Why? Because I am not good at it. I am a terrible walker. Said in my best Bill Walton voice, "Terrible." I don't fall down or anything like that. But I am completely incapable of walking more than one block without having one of those awkward confrontations with someone walking towards me. This is not an exaggeration. I will be walking. There will be someone else. We will approach each other. Now, most adults (if not children), have mastered the art of walking past another person, easily, even mindlessly, avoiding confrontation. Not me. Not ever. I always, always, get in one of those predicaments where we are face to face. I slow down, so does the other person. I start to move to one side - the other person does the same. Then we each try to go the other way. At this point, after a few side to sides, we usually untangle and go on our way.

By why does it have to get this far? Why with over 30-years of walking experience, why can't I do this correctly. Sometimes I begin to get mad at the other person (in my head). Use the rules of the road - stay to the right. You idiot, get to the right and out of my way. Only problem is, I don't stick to this rule. Chaos. I can't explain. I don't understand. I don't know why. I just know I can't walk.

And today, was the last straw. I know without question I need help. It is a nice day out, and I decide to get out of the office and take a quick walk for a break. Ok, I was told to leave my office while they fixed my computer because I had downloaded a virus by accident. Either way. Either way. I am outside, doing my walking. Everything going well. This is easy, anyone can do it. Then I am coming to a corner and planning on turning to my left down another street. Uh oh. I see someone in my path. It is going to happen, I can see it. He sees me. I am nervous. Why isn't he nervous? Can't he see what is only a few steps in his future? We get closer. Move to your right. I say this in my head both to him and to myself to myself. To the right. Phew, he does. He moves to the right. Oh no. Problem. I don't follow the rule. I go left. Why, why did I go left. This isn't Wee Britain. He now sees me, looks at my eyes. He sees fear, he must. He wants me to take the wide turn, while he stays on the inside. That makes sense. But it isn't what happens, because I keep going left. Stumbling and studder-stepping. We are inches apart. It is like a tractor beam. I can't shake loose. We are face to face. And we each come to a standstill. This is a first. A new low. No movement at all. Just me, an idiot, completely stopped, staring at this man. He looks at me, as if to say,"What the f#ck is wrong with you? Why can't you walk?" Maybe, sometime in the past, I would have been thinking the same, blaming him for our standstill. But I have to be true to myself. I know the truth. It is my fault. It is always my fault. I just can't walk and I hate it.