How to the way.

As I exited Grand Central Station the other day, I was walking towards the exit at a pretty good clip when I came across this guy- walter2

except shorter, fatter and walking like a wind up toy-


shuffling his way through Grand Central Station at the astonishing speed of -2 mph in my general direction.

Walking in a NYC subway is often a game of chicken, fast walkers dodging the slow, the strollers,  and the lost.  People waiting until a millisecond before smashing into someone else before darting around or side-stepping.  In my experience, the slow usually get out of the way.   This guy didn't.  In fact he barely looked at me as he wobbled towards me, but I still figured he'd move.  He didn't.  Two steps before smacking into me, he barely lifted his head off his crossed arms and screamed  MOVE! with the ferocity of a thousand velociraptors.

I moved.  I jumped.  I peed a little.  Then I cracked up.

It wasn't upsetting, it didn't make me angry, my feelings weren't hurt.  Despite old man-wind up toy's nasty delivery he was just stating the obvious-one of the two of us needed to move and it wasn't going to be him.  Part of the reason I love this city is because it moves.  Fast.  There's no room or time for stagnancy.  Everyone is moving towards something. A taxi, a train, a job, a gig, a date, a show, the laundromat, grocery store--everything is movement, all the time.

And if you don't move?

You'll hear about it.