The “Golden Mushroom” from Mario Kart Would Solve This in a Jiffy

On second thought, I could go for some red shells.

If anyone reading this has been in university, I’m sure you’ll understand the common experience of having approximately 10 minutes to book to it to your next class located directly on the other side of campus. This next-to-impossible mission is met and, so often, accomplished by approximately 12,000 formidable students at my place of learning every hour of everyday.


These unsung heroes bear unhealthy weights on their backs and slung over their shoulders in the forms of cruelly sized textbooks and awkward laptops (or “The Beast,” as I affectionately refer to mine) (everyone with a lightweight Mac can shut up and kiss my biceps) as they speed walk, pizza slice in one hand, vitamin water in the other, through a veritable obstacle course of seeing eye-dogs, fellow students, staircases, and the elements, all in the name of class-time punctuality. (Don’t even get me started on the trendy Asians who do this in 5-inch spike heels.)

I'm ready for Calculus 110!

However, it is true, as it is quoted in the fantastic Disney Pixar movieThe Incredibles, that “if everyone is super, then no one is.” Don’t get me wrong—these power walking, power eating, power learning, power making babies (SO MANY BABIES) students are definitely super. For that to be the case, that means that some division of these 12,000 populating the halls are not what one would call super. Who are these unfortunate people, these members of the student body who do not get a share of the superness of their speed walking superiors?

These are the dregs of the hallways, the sloths of the metaphorical university rainforest, the very obstacles that the speedy ones dodge, plow through, and hurdle to reach their worthy goals. These are the banes of my hallway travels, the ones I have never been able to understand, the ones who will surely not be around to plague me much longer if Darwin has anything to say about it.

These are the PEOPLE WHO WALK SLOW.

I have the determination, the iron will, and shall I say, the shapely physique for the athletic challenge that comes with running, laden with weights and bulky winter jackets, across campus and up and around staircases to make it to my classes on time. What I do not, unfortunately, possess, is the ability to run through a brick wall. And that’s what I appear to be faced with during my daily hallway dashes—brick walls of human beings.

Try getting through me, sucker!!

The hallway dash is a dance in which we all participate, weaving and revolving around each other in swift, flawless execution. We’re all here for the same reason, student and faculty alike. We all have something to do and somewhere to be. The dance moves along perfectly, fluidly, until, BAM! All progress comes to a crashing halt. You’ve hit it. The dreaded, the hated, SLOW WALKING PERSON.

The Slow Walking Person, should you ever find yourself on an urban safari and for some inexplicable reason actually desire to see such a creature, can also commonly be found in shopping malls and on downtown sidewalks, when not clogging up university campus traffic. The Slow Walking Person can usually identified by their inconveniently large girth and sporting of a large, overstuffed backpack. The Slow Walking Person is also, without fail, traveling directly through the middle of the hallway, never ever off to the side, which would be the conscientious thing to do.

If the Slow Walking Person were to turn around at any point in their irritating existence, they would find behind them a veritable procession of human beings, walking so close as to be stepping on each other’s heels, all burning holes into the back of the necks of the people they are walking behind, as they feel the seconds count down closer and closer to both the start of their classes and the ends of their lives.

As I trudge behind these individuals, I can’t help but thinking, every day, “What is going through these people’s heads? Does it never cross their minds that anyone could possibly have anywhere to be in a hurry? Do they honestly not realize that all traffic in the hallway has come to a crawl all because of their inability to get a move on? And how in the world are these people not late for class yet??”

I’m sure by now you’ve made up your mind that I am a terrible person, cruel and judgemental. I, on the other hand, don’t see myself as entirely heartless. I understand that sometimes at school, we all get tired. I refuse to accept that as an excuse for hallway slowness. We’reuniversity students, for crying out loud! The average population of a crowded corridor are probably sharing a good 10 hours of sleep between them. I’m practically giddy with fatigue as I write this, myself (due to an unfortunate combination of accidental caffeine intake and a tricky nightmare involving dinosaurs). Yet, the rest of us seem to be moving right along just fine.

Yes, I mentioned the inconveniently substantial girth of the Slow Walking Person. Now you think I’m hating on fat people. This is not true in the slightest. Scores of overweight corridor-crusaders are booking it around me all the time, quite speedily, too. I’m hating on the fat people who walk slow.

You shall not pass! :D

It’s not just the Immense and Immobile who block up our passageways. Worse are the Slow-walking Sallies who flock together and block up the halls more effectively than cholesterol in the arteries. These are the girls (because let’s face it, they’re usually girls) who walk down the halls with their friends, and discover that the feat of simultaneously walking and talking is  beyond them. Gabbing away merrily, these people just slooooow it right down, oblivious to the fact that hordes of impatient class-goers are pushing and shoving them out of their way. The university has implemented these neat little things called benches along the sides of most school hallways. Feel free to park your butt on those to finish your fascinating discussion of what happened last night on Jersey Shore. If those are too hard for you to locate, try the entire rooms that have been dedicated to your socialization, like the lounges, the common areas, the canteens. Or, best of all, just move your legs faster. Chances are it’ll inspire your mouth to move faster as well. Say more in less time! We all win!

Place to stop and chat

Not place to stop and chat

Next, one might argue that not everyone is in as big of a rush as everyone else. True, some people are late for class, but others may be just beginning their blocks of free time and have nowhere in the entire world to be for the next three hours. That’s a lie. There are many good places these people could be. Libraries, the aforementioned lounges and cafeterias, the coffee shops, sitting down someplace, going to meet friends, basically anywhere else but in my hallway. Go somewhere else and go there fast. It’s really not a lot to ask.

Or at least get a less archaic phone.
Loser.

Finally, I believe that when it comes to texting, the same rules should be applied to the hallways as they are on the roads. If you’ve really got to text your pals, that’s fine. But for the love of God, pull over. Instead of stopping in your tracts and inching along at a snail’s pace with your neck craned over your iPhone 4, step off to the side, not in the middle of a hall or on the stairs, and finish your BBMing there. Fewer fender benders for you, more progress made for me.

I have my doubts over whether the race of Slow Walking People will either evolve to a higher intelligent life form or run its course into extinction in my lifetime, but until either of these phenomenons are realized, I will have to resign myself to being tardy to my lectures, occupying the last remaining seat in the back  of the class, and amusing myself by throwing little balls of tinfoil at the backs of the Slow Walkers' heads.

They never see it coming.