After years of being car-dependent, to the point where anything over a 10 minute walk would be an excuse to burn some fossil fuels or stab a dolphin, it's been amazing to live somewhere that forces me to use my skills of bipedalism.
I've walked more in the last couple weeks than those folks who went for a stroll from Bataan and while there are differences between the Upper West Side of Manhattan and a dirt road in the Philippines strewn with hundreds of rotting corpses, my thighs are still really tired.
My main problem so far though has less to do with the amount of walking and more to do with the complete lack of walking prowess that I've encountered from the New York natives so far. These are people who have lived here for years and are used to using their feet to get everywhere - one would assume they would understand basic locomotive skills and the processes by which groups travel through transportation systems. It would be like someone who grew up in Hawaii not knowing how to surf, or someone raised in Omaha not knowing how to make meth.
New Yorkers must know how to walk. Yeah, not so much.
Everyone here likes to take a break at the top of the busiest stairwell or suddenly discover a buffalo nickel at the cut-through of the narrowest alley. Sure, let's play jacks...right here! I remember at some point in my life, an old, wise man put his hand on my shoulder and taught me the ancient art of passing people on your right. Everyone stays on their respective right side of the walkway, everyone walks unhindered, grasshopper.
I've done the "This way, no, okay this way, wait, uh..but, eh, I, okay I'll go on this side" dance 6000 times since I've been here. It seems at times that people are trying to run headfirst into me, as if there's some great game going on where everyone is included and racking up points for crashing into the clueless dopes unaware of what's going on.
Well from now on I'm gonna start playing. Now if you excuse me, I have to go tie my shoes in a crosswalk.
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