People who hold the door open for me even though I still at least 15 steps away. A distance where I'll have to pick up and give a little jog, so there won't be this awkward moment while you act as a door stop for me. Well, I'm not going to run. I will say, "thanks, I'll get it," with a condescending little eye-rolling smile. But you never get it. So fine. Stand there.
The guy who just stood there as his four dogs, teeny little ankle-biters, all with leashes trailing behind them, ran freely on the bike path just as Peter and I were coming north about 25mph, with a fat tailwind, over the little rise after Burnham Park. What is it with these people? Do they play in the street like this? Maybe they should so they would get out of the gene pool.
0 comments:
Post a Comment