Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Get Out Of The Way

Harrison Ford as Dirk DeckardSometimes you just want to get home. Sometimes you just want to get from A to B through C (A = morning, B = evening, C = work / life / society) with the minimum of fuss and upset. You want to take the shortest, quickest, easiest route. The path of least resistance. As the crow flies.

Because you’re (to quote Shrek) a donkey on the edge. You are a Hadron collider of disenchantment molecules. One more straw on your back and you are going to get mediaeval on the world’s ass.

It’s not that you have anything against the world. No big beef. No real big issue. It’s just there. Today the world is there and you would much rather it not be there. But if it’s going to be there the least it can do is shut the fuck up and play ball.

That’s right. I want the world’s ass to play ball. Don’t get picky with my metaphors, I’m not in the mood.

So why is it, on these days, on these days when your mind is a hurricane of venom and antisocial energy that people, things, get in your way?

You’re just trying to get through to the other side as peacefully as you can but they – them – they get in your way. Constantly. Deliberately.

The phone call you know you shouldn’t answer but you do and it braindumps another load of crap onto your ass just before you’re about to go home. The people who insist on stopping immediately in front of you when you are rushing through town on an irritating, shit-kicking errand and they just stop dead and flounder and flummox and flop about wetly blocking your way even though they know you are there. The car at the junction that slows down in front of you not to let you cross but because they can’t be bothered to rush too much and so they slow but not slow enough for you to be able to cross in front of them and it’s raining but now you have to wait until Mr Air Conditioned Leather Car Seat and his kajillion decibel sound system on wheels rolls past you before you can cross. The shops who choose this moment – this exact moment – to run out of whatever essential item you need to buy on your way home when they have it every other sodding day of the year but no, not today, not at this hour, and now you have to go out of your way, walk longer, encounter more people, just to get this one solitary item from another shop which you don’t even like and which isn’t going to make your life any better but will feel like some kind of victory if you do actually get it.

Why? Why do all these get in your way?

Why do they choose today of all days to get in your face?

Why can’t they just stay the fuck away?

You know what I need?

A gun. A gun like Dirk Deckard had in Bladerunner. A huge fat jumbo jet sausage of a gun that shoots bullets the size of coke cans. Cos’ when Dirk pulled that piece and shouted, “get out of the way” people did. They got out of his way.

Well, that’s what I need. That’s what I want. It’s not a luxury. It’s an essential item. It’s survival, people, survival. I will die without it.

And it’s nothing personal. I don’t want to hurt anybody. I don’t want to hurt you. Truly I don’t.

I. Just. Want. You. To. Get. Out. Of. The. Way.



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26 comments:

Heather said...

*steps to side and flattens self against wall* after you!

libby said...

D-fens....remember him? I often think he knew how many beans make 5.....but hey, a bad day is often followed by a good one so chin up.

Steve said...

Heather: at ease, sister. You're one of the good guys. Pass, friend.

Libby: yeah, I remember D-fens. He found that holdall full of guns. Some guys get all the luck!

John Gray said...

oh I am so like you in this!!!
I could easily go into "path rage" when out walking on everyday pavements..........
dont get me started on supermarket "aisle rage"
and as for bikes on pavements.......arrrhhhhhhhhhh

(I need a lie down x)

Gorilla Bananas said...

People would think you had an inferiority complex if you carried a weapon that big. Why not just stare at people with a crazy grin, talk to yourself and dye your beard green? My guess is that people will be running to get out of your way.

Steve said...

John: we must unite as a new vigilante force - The Pavement Warriors. Or something like that only with a better name.

Gorilla Bananas: you obviously don't know Leamington Spa. Acting that weird would actually attract people to you.

Katriina said...

I hear you, Steve. Great post. I could hear that hissing sound as you seethed.

A girlfriend in Japan had a novel way of making people get the hell out of her way, especially on crowded trains. She would clap a hand over her mouth and murmur "I'm going to puke.."

Worked every time.

Steve said...

Katriina: ha, love it. And a mouthful of vegetable soup would soon take care of any stubborn mules.

EmmaK said...

ooh Steve...you've gone all manly and macho you're letting out steam like a kettle. Just stick out your elbows and poke anyone who dares to get in your way!

Steve said...

Emma: but if I stick out my elbows that'll make me look very camp.

Wanderlust said...

@Steve - that might help your cause (to look camp).

You forgot about those people thoughtless enough to run out of fuel on the freeway and pull over and turn on their blinkers, causing traffic to slow down and back up for miles when you clearly only left the minimal amount of time for your morning commute.

Steve said...

Wanderlust: yep, there's a special place in hell for them people. The Devil's own hard shoulder.

Being Me said...

You sound like you're one step away from appearing on Grumpy Old Men.

The ones I can't stand are those that never take a freaking gap in the traffic. Even a loooong, obvious gap. Steve's taken to drawing an imaginary invitation in the air and handing it to the driver through the windscreen telling them they are now 'cordially invited to enter the intersection'. He gets strange looks sometimes. And not from me.

John Gray said...

RTFP
rECLAIM THE FUCKING PAVEMENTS!

Steve said...

Being Me: oh yeah. We gave those too. We wave, we flash our headlghts. Still they don't move. Until we do. Then they move. And we all stop. And it all gets bad tempered.

Grumpy Old Men? Sign me up now. Proper pen and paper. None of this digital bollocks. Bah humbug.

John: brilliant. You can be in charge of marketing.

Rol said...

Oh dear. Steve has been stealing the thoughts out of my brain again and writing them up as a blog post. Is there no way I can sue him for that? I've told him before...

Steve said...

Rol: a scarier thought is that maybe you and I share a single brain.

Suburbia said...

Hope you haven't managed to get a bloody gun since you wrote this! Can't even blame hormones ;)

lunarossa said...

Dear Steve, Is this rant the beginning of the male menopause? Will you soon get a new sports car or a 20years or so mistress? Ciao. A.x ;)

The Sagittarian said...

You should live down here then, hardly anyone about these days!

the fly in the web said...

So how come you've been living in France while I thought you were living in Leamington Spa?

Owen said...

You are going to have to get Clint Eastwood to play the part in your upcoming movie...

And now that the US Army is leaving Iraq, you should be able pick up as cheap surplus one of their big diesel, armored bulldozers, the model that has a pair of 50 Cal. machine guns and rocket launchers mounted on top... most everything can be encouraged to get out of your way with one of those...

Steve said...

Suburbia: maybe I'm having an empathic period?

Lunarossa: I can't drive and I'm ugly. So, no. ;-)

Amanda: NZ has just been utterly sold to me.

The fly in the web: it's easy to get confused, isn't it? Same shit different gravy.

Owen: let's hope Father Christmas can fit it down the chimney!

Marginalia said...

That time of month again Steve?

vegemitevix said...

Ooooh Steve you aren't going to go all postal on us are you and recreate a Brit version of 'Falling Down' because Maccas won't serve you a breakfast mcmuffin? Chin up chook, not like to christmas mince pie time.

Steve said...

Marginalia: yeah. Christmas.

Vix: don't even get me started on the McMuffin!