I've seen it time and again...I've experienced it time and again. This strange phenomenon that occurs whenever you need GET somewhere fast. It's the lollygagging 10 year old dragging a doll alongside herself while she holds her mother's hand... it's the old man with a bow-tie and cane...it's the aimless hippie cracked out on substances which will go un-named...its the long bearded fat man with a tattoo of his german shepherd on his arm that died in 1991. SLOW-POKES who somehow manage to be able to sense your every movement even though you are BEHIND them...people who are somehow internally equipped with a homing device that targets and anticipates your every attempt to PASS THEM. I understand that not everyone is in a hurry...some people don't have their life intricately woven around the hammering "minute". We are the minute-men (or women). Our world is very delicate!! One minute can cost us very dearly! You miss that early train (and the LIRR is not forgiving my friend, they will leave you crying and alone on that platform, they don't care!), you're up a creek. Instead of having a seat, you are now literally jammed in between someone's butt crevice and someone's sweaty armpit. So you see, when Bill and Judy there may have all the time in the world to get to that Bingo game...they should try to clear a path if they see someone dashing through Penn Station screaming at the top of their lungs "INCOMING!!!!!" (Well actually if they're yelling that and flailing their arms you might want to hit the deck, because a Tank could be rolling in with heavy artillery strapped to it...hey, you never know.) S.P.A.'s hear me and hear me well...some of us have lives that must be inevitably dictated by the omniscient CLOCK...time is ticking...clear a path people!! Clear a path!!
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