3rd (Avenue) Circle of Hell

I’m a patient person, for the most part. If you’re not playing for one of my favorite sports teams, I have no reason to yell at you (and even then, there is a buffer of a tv or many, many rows of seats). When I say “excuse me” as I try to get on a crowded train, I don’t even say it that loudly, and certainly don’t snippily.

But certain things just rub me the wrong way. Clueless behavior that is inconsiderate of those around you is the usual culprit. And once I mutter to myself, “there is a special circle in hell reserved for you, buddy*” I know that I’m more than a little ticked.

*I do say “buddy”. I give credit to my mother, whose rare road rage never mustered more than an angry “hey, buddy”. Not even “jerk” or “dummy”. I’m pretty sure I learned most “bad words” an average of 3.2 years after everyone else did, because I never heard them. So “buddy” it is.

This morning, I sent a man to his very own special circle:

Everyone is rushing in the morning. We all leave our apartments at the last possible second, so the minute that a light doesn’t go our way, or a train is delayed due to “signal trouble”, it’s that much more frenzied. I don’t get annoyed with those that rush past me, and I don’t get annoyed by people who walk just a little bit slower, either: we’re all just trying to get to work.

So this morning, I emerged from my subway and on to the street. I was running about a minute late, nothing major, but it wasn’t as if I had all the time in the world to get to work. It was not a morning to take a leisurely stroll down Lexington: actually, it never is. I hate walking on Lexington, the sidewalks are so much narrower than other avenues. I usually try avoiding Lexington as much as possible, but for the sake of practicality, this still leaves one block of narrow sidewalk to tackle each morning.

Walking down Lexington, I could see at the very end of the block that there was a problem: a man with an obscenely large umbrella.

Umbrella? Was it even raining?

Well, no, it wasn’t. There was a raindrop here or there, but I’m willing to bet money that even a little old lady in a walker would have been dexterous enough to avoid the rain drops. They were very few and very far between. So unless you’re channeling Michael Jackson, an umbrella in this particular “precipitation” (if you could call it that) was highly unnecessary.

But there he was. And he was taking up space on the sidewalk. He wasn’t walking like a slowpoke, but his umbrella was so cumbersome and had such an impressive wingspan that everyone had to take great pains to avoid him, causing a bottleneck at the end of the block that had a ripple effect.

And then you have to wait for people to walk around the umbrella, while this dude was absolutely clueless as to the pain in the butt he was being

I made it to work on time, but it’s the principle of the thing.

There is a special circle reserved for you, buddy. A circle where people are forced to walk on unnaturally small sidewalks and they all have huge umbrellas even though it isn’t raining (because obviously it doesn’t rain in hell) and if you misstep you land in the fire and brimstone. So there.

I don’t have an anger problem, honest!


3 thoughts on “3rd (Avenue) Circle of Hell

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