So I'm walking to work this morning, at my usual speedy pace, when this guy in a badly fitting business suit passes me. It takes him a while to pass, because he's barely walking faster than I am, and he seems to be struggling slightly.
He finally cuts in front of me. I notice that he has a cigarette in one hand. Crap, I know what's coming next. Yep, sure enough, he takes a drag on his cancer stick and blows out a huge cloud of smoke, which naturally drifts directly into my face.
Since second-hand smoke makes me cranky indoors OR out, especially when it lands directly on my person, I cough loudly. Either he doesn't hear, doesn't make the connection, or doesn't care, because he does it again.
Jerk. I console myself with the fact that he has a girl ass (never good on a guy), and he appears to be wearing some sort of low boots with his suit, and the back hem of one pant leg is caught in the top of the boot. Hee!
Of course, I'm not going to walk my last half-mile breathing Bozo's smoke, so I slow my pace enough to create a buffer zone. And not just from the cig smoke. From the testosterone, too.
This happens all the time. I'll be walking quickly along, minding my own business, when some guy decides he has to one up me. There are two basic scenarios:
1. I'm waiting at a stoplight. A guy approaches from behind me and moves to stand right in front of me. If I'm actually standing ON the curb at the time, he'll go so far as to stand in the gutter. What he's thinking: "I'm a guy, she's a girl, therefore I'm faster. I'll cut in front of her because I don't want her slowing me down." What actually happens: The light changes, I step around him, pass him easily, and have him eating my dust before I'm halfway across the street. All without breaking a sweat or chipping a nail.
2. I'm actually in motion when a guy musters up everything he has just to pass me. Ocassionally, I'll even hear wheezing. I am not alone in observing this particular phenomena. A work chum of the male persuasion is a regular runner. He said he has frequently noticed a female runner breeze past a male runner, only to have the male nearly cause himself a heart attack trying to rally his bruised ego to pass the speedier, and obviously fitter, female. We both chuckle over that one. Laughing at other people's stupidity knows no gender lines.
Now, just to clarify the status of my own ego: I do occasionally get passed by someone who is legitimately faster than I am. Almost without fail, these people, male and female, have much longer legs than I do AND are quite fit.