Crosswalk and Train Door Jumpers (With a Hidden Contest!)

The honking taxis speed through the intersection. You're waiting at the crosswalk. You were one of the first people there when the sign changed to "DON'T WALK." In a flash, people begin filling in around you, waiting to cross the street. After a moment, the cross traffic speeds up, and a few people in the now overflowing crosswalk begin edging forward, closer and closer to the speeding cars. The cab drivers become even more reckless than usual, flooring their gas pedals to make it through the intersection, and the people who are the subject of this article, the Crosswalk Jumpers, separate themselves from the crowd waiting to cross the street by tiptoeing even closer to the deadly traffic racing by.

Both the drivers and Jumpers are hypersensitive about what everyone knows will eventually happen, that the traffic light will change and the "DON'T WALK" sign will change to "WALK." It's an anxious situation. People edging in front of the mass of people waiting to cross the street in a big city during the lunch hour is technically no big deal. I mean, so what if in addition to physically separating themselves from the waiting crowd, some people also separate themselves from rational thought by getting close enough to the traffic that their hair blows and clothes flap in the mechanical, traffic-created breeze?

The tension builds. The cross traffic's light turns yellow. And then, the "WALK" sign lights up.

Like bulls out of the gate, the Crosswalk Jumpers literally leap ahead from their already advanced positions, propelled by their expelled nervous energy, released in the goal of getting ahead of everyone.

A real life crosswalk jumper.

And then, in my experience, the inevitable happens. One or all of the crosswalk jumpers (who always happen to jump directly in front of me) lose their steam. They jump off the line, get ahead of you, me, and then. . .they. . .slow. . .dowwwwwwwn-n-n-n-n.

What is the fucking point, Crosswalk Jumpers? Seriously, if you people are in such a desperate need to get ahead of everyone, why in the hell do you jump like rabbits then walk like turtles? Why work so hard to get ahead and then get in everyone else's way? Wanting to get ahead of people in the crosswalk is not a bad thing in itself, but once you made that choice it is your responsibility to keep-on-trucking. You guys are so full of energy off the line, but you shoot your wad quicker than a pre-cum dripping teenage boy about to poke his first pie.

By nature, I am a fast city walker; however, I also practice good sidewalk etiquette. I am courteous while weaving in and out of the commuter and lunchtime crowds that populate the sidewalks like angry ants that just had their hive stepped on. I don't get annoyed when trapped behind a crowd of nose-picking, map-reading tourists. I give the right of way to cross traffic I'm trying to enter. If I'm walking slow, I try to walk on the right. But what gives Crosswalk Jumpers the right to jump off the line like Baryshnikov with Parkinson's Disease, and then decide to walk like old people fuck: Slow and sloppy.

Even worse are the Train Door Jumpers. On the subway or even the suburban commuter trains, many of us have seen these people. They're the ones who often stand by the train doors for the entire length of the commute. Or, they start moving toward the train doors about five to ten stops before theirs is due. Even if the train doors are already occupied, they try their best to worm their way as close as possible to the other standees. (they also often smell like garlic to the stinkiest extreme, the kind of garlic smell that is oozing out of their pores in clumps. This is just an observation without much relevance other than the smell just ads to their annoyance factor.)

I can always spot (even before I smell) a Train Door Jumper by how they have no concept of the basic laws of physics, namely that two objects cannot occupy the same space at the same time. They nudge, nudge, nudge! up to the door, hitting people with their big backpacks and/or parcels and accidentally, I hope, rub everyone in the crotch with said backpack and/or parcels.

Then the tension in this situation becomes thick. The train is approaching a Train Jumper's stop. The Train Jumper stares at the train doors with the same wide-eyed and somewhat pained look that tiny dogs display when taking a huge dump. The train slows down, the computerized train announcer announces the station, and the Train Jumper begins revving his engine. There is always one nerve-racking pregnant pause right after the train comes to a complete stop and just before the train doors open. The train is stopped, and you can actually see the Train Jumper swaying forward and back, like he is winding up to try to break down a door. He is trying to time his exit perfectly, and the slight swaying is him building up momentum. Then, in the longest three seconds of this person's life, he bolts out of the train like he's trying to escape a Whoopie Goldberg movie festival.*

Fine. No problem. But just like the Crosswalk Jumpers, the Train Door Jumpers tend to shoot ahead with lightning speed and then putter out. On a normal day, just trying to exit the subway is maddening enough without these people inflicting their physical and psychological terror. Because riding the subway to work is a good enough reason to take your vitamins, the added stress in the disparity between my perception of "Wow, they're moving real fast!" to "What the fuck? Did that person's mad dash just turn into a teetering, glacial hobble?" is just not right.

And don't even get me started on the corpulent Train Door Jumpers who not only dash ahead only to walk slow, but take up a seemingly impossible amount of space by caring ten plastic bags in their left hand and sway their right hand in wide, arcing loops as if they're trying to balance on a tight rope. . .

Life is about choices. To expand the vision of this small "jumper" annoyance into the larger picture, when you choose to jump off the crosswalk or run out of the train, there are inherent responsibilities in these choices. Don't take the leap if you can't accept the responsibility of continuing to walk fast. Why set yourself up for this? Why leap ahead of people you know walk faster than you? It isn't logical, and you piss me off. Daily.
* [EXTRA! Semi-Hidden Mini-Contest! Come up with a better simile than me to complete the sentence, ". . he bolts out of the train like he's trying to escape ___________________________." My wit was lacking for this sentence, being that my first choice was a hackneyed "a Michael Bolton concert." Submit your mini-contest entries to rantnroll@gmail.com. Thank you. ]