God, I fucking hate people who walk and check their Blackberrys and don’t look up.
You can substitute “iPhone” for Blackberry, or even the little fuckers and their Sidekicks. Whatever. Fuck all these people that can’t take .02 of a second to peek a glance at just where it is they’re fucking going.
I was walking to get a burrito with some co-workers yesterday on Burrito Wednesday (it’s so good, it almost deserves capitalization and quotes). Some salt-and-pepper-haired gentleman in his early-50s walked by my friend and I, eagerly checking the emails from his broker detailing how his stocks just dropped another 200 points. While thinking about how he might have to sell the house in the Hamptons to that German couple he and his wife met while having cocktails at Olives, this coat-draped-over-his-arm hooker-lover tried to walk straight through my torso.
Of course I had to side-step him, but I should have thrown a sharp elbow right into his temple.
Even if you can’t sneak a glance, at least use some GOD DAMN PERIPHERAL VISION, FUCKSHIT.
I’m 6’5″. Well over 200 lbs. I’m not a fucking fire hydrant or a fucking shit tzu. You can see me, you pentagenarian pissdrinker. You do not own the street, no matter how many times you scroll up or down on that little fucking screen of yours.
I can’t wait to see you fall in an open sewer or, better yet, have a chalk outline of your body drawn on the front of a bus.