In a slightly well-intentioned but wholly counter-productive effort to stop blocking the sidewalk and let a group of walkers pass, local father of two Dale Thomas (DT) Finwenster backed away from his clustered family (amongst whom he had been standing with his back facing traffic), moving quickly into a group of strangers. Responding to his approach, the group (who like him had been waiting to gain entry into a popular local restaurant) tried to back away in turn only to find its path blocked by a row of parked cars.
“Oh god sorry,” Mr Finwenster said from quite near the center of their midst, his arms pulled in tightly to his chest, his chins descending protectively, and his back buckling into a pronounced hump as the people who had been originally trying to walk past pushing their bicycles stood patiently waiting for him to get his swollen head out of his blown-out ass. (Like a group of bait-fish fleeing a submarine predator, the group of strangers had shifted in order to keep from being touched or grazed by DT, resulting in the sidewalk being even more obstructed than before.) Failing to end the awkwardness by using the simple option of walking forward three steps and melding back into the close comfort of his familiar unit, DT instead started shouting at the cyclists and gesturing at them vehemently with his arms, urging them in a loud voice to “Just go already!” as the strangers around him ducked and shied in dread away from his flailing elbows.
Only upon the hissed, vehement insistence of both of his daughters did Dale Thomas look at the reality of the situation and take the few steps required to unfuck the situation and let everyone get on their merry way. Throughout the whole ride home after breakfast and for the rest of the day, DT insisted (unprompted and in an infuriatingly self-assured manner) that his actions in front of the restaurant had been appropriate, measured, and reasonable.
[ americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan ]
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I bicycle, write, surf, and strive.