The bus is right there. It's directly across the street from where you're standing. There's a calm and overwhelming feeling of punctuality coming over you.
"Finally," you think, "this is going to be my day."
Then, shifting your eyes upward, the situation becomes clear. You have a do-not-walk signal, and the cars - they are a-flying. Most people will feel an impulse, it's out of their control. They're going to pick up their knees, haul ass across the street, catch the bus, and once again relish in that mighty calm.
I urge all of you not to do this.
Why? It's simple. You look like an idiot when you run.
It's hard not to leave your face drenched in nervous sweat, and to hide ridiculous breathing patterns under a strong exterior. It's hard to convince your fellow man that your spastic and, quite frankly, seizure-like movements actually qualify as running.
But far be it for me to sit here and criticize all day. Instead, I make the following proclamation standing up: People of Earth, I have devised the greatest solution to all of your hurry-up problems. Are you ready?
Run with your feet, walk with your arms.
Let that one pull a Drain-O and sink in real quick. Go on. Bask in its knowledgeable glow.
This solution has been tried and tested in many experimental situations: getting milk at the grocery store, saving a cat from a burning building, grabbing your important mail in front of the drive way (yes, you are in fact eligible for Publisher's Clearing House this year, and no, Snuggies does not advertise using fliers).
The key to life is never actually getting from point A to poi ...actually, I don't like getting to and from places named after letters. Let's try it again. The key to life is never actually getting from Tapan street to Jones avenue - it's to look cool as fuck in the process, so people don't think you're as desperate as Ricki Lake is to be famous again (it's never going to happen Ricki, move on).
The only way to accomplish this is outlined in the following steps:
1) Achieve a speed with your legs directly on the border of walking and running
2) Swing your arms as if you're strolling past the Victoria's Secret window, wanting the display to last as long as Marisa Miller's gorgeous legs, which she can use to play footsie with me any day. We'd probably end up running off together to get married and consequently have a divorce. But I had a plan. "Baby, we don't need a pre-nup. Come on, you know you're my everything." Then the second the money train stops I bail and get half of her Sports Illustrated cash, which leads to a meeting with Chris Paul and we can hang out or something. But I digress.
So you got it? Run with your legs, walk with your arms. The next time you have to be anywhere in a hurry, try it out, and then come back and thank me for all the "Is that James Bond?" and the "OMG it's the girl from Perfect Dark" compliments you're getting.
These and more life tips in coming weeks.
Happy Birthday Lincoln,
Tapan Jones
P.S. The word for friend in Hindi is yar. Before I knew that, I just assumed India was filled with pirates.
The only reason you'd avoid running and advise others to do so would be because you fell on your face in front of 5 supermodels. Everyone tries to make the bus, who wants to wait for the next one?
ReplyDeleteI can't say I've ever given anyone the pleasure of a second glance as they walk in front of/next to me on the street. But let's say I do...now I have the option to observe a person who is not running, nor walking...but both? Only a conceited asshole would be so worried about how they look while they are catching a bus, is that really an image you want to portray? How about a man who knows his priorities, one who is punctual not palsied because his focus was on superficial walking styles. If you think about run-walkers, who's technique is divided north/south, you often think of people who are carrying things. For example many people who walk with their arms have briefcases or a pizza box, making it nearly impossible to keep proper running form with all four limbs. By walking with your arms and running with your legs, all your really doing is carrying nothing while running...poser
ReplyDeleteI think i used to live on Jones Avenue. Right across from the corner of Idiot St. and Stupid Avenue. Man, i just want to drink a nice glass of syrup like i do every morning, homeboy.
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