Talk the talk?

The walk – talks!

Sometimes, ‘the walk’ screeches at me. Some walking style of others just annoys the hell out of me, and makes me want to stab them in the eye with a plastic fork.

The ghetto sway, Yo! Brother! What’s up?
Gimme a break! Gangsta’s Paradise is so yesterday! Please! It’s not COOL! And you’re not P Diddy! Stop bobbing up and down, you’re giving me motion sickness. And you’re looking spastic. This manner of walking, I think is the most annoying of them all.

The Happy Bouncy Walk.
If you’re female, it’s the Boob-bouncing walk.

Pigeon-toed dumb walk.
Need I say more? So – what have you got between your legs that you put one foot in front after the other at a 45 degree angle? Nobody told you to keep your legs closed? Ladies, behave yourself.

The male gay walk.
Chest out, shoulders straight, hands held up 5 inches away from chest, elbows by the waist. Ok already, I get it, you’re gay and proud of it.

The lazy-slow-paced walk.
One slow step after the other. Oblivious to the rest of the world, not realising they could be getting in anyone’s way. Get a move on it, sister! Stop dragging your feet. Life, WILL! Pass you by! This style of walking really infuriates me too. It’s just plain lazy – feet dragging, when they are neither browsing nor elderly. The thought of tripping them over makes me almost joyful.*

The duck-strut.
What have you got up your bum?! Seriously! Do share!

I-am-a-model walk.
All right. Great posture. But you’re not exactly on the catwalk. And you’re starting to look like a transvestite on heels.

Take a guess? I am indeed terribly grouchy.

Working my way around everyone else is really getting to me. I am way stressed out. Getting around is like fighting a battle. Everyone is encroaching upom my space. I cannot breathe. I am feeling claustrophobic.

I am such a drama queen.

Oh, and in case you were wondering what kind of walk I have? That’s hardly the point. At least I am normal paced and try not to get in other people’s way. Honestly!

* I imagine myself tripping them over. I stick my leg out, and splat on their face they will fall. And since they are so oblivious, they wouldn’t know what’d just happened. And then I trip them over again. I continue to rub my palms together with glee. And I snicker to myself.