Escalator

There are some escalators in a building near where I work. The other day I was walking through that building and found myself behind a gentleman who was walking with a cane.

I should pause a minute to explain my theory of escalators. It's pretty simple, really:

1) If there's no one in front of me, then I try to race up the steps as fast as possible without actually breaking into a run. This often involves me pretending to be Spiderman. I give myself bonus points for going slightly airborne at the top.

2) If there are people walking up the escalator in front of me, I will politely match their speed. I'm usually thinking, "Nutz... well, we'll get there eventually."

3) If there are folks standing and allowing the steps to carry them up, I usually think angry thoughts, tap my foot on the step loudly and glare daggers into their soul. Since this always involves staring directly into an oblivious double-wide hinder, the target of my wrath rarely notices. Also, I doubt that a double-wide hinder is a window to any body's soul.

I had already decided that the gentleman with the cane was going to be an exception to my rules. He could barely walk, after all. No way was I going to be miffed at him for taking the slow route.

And then, the most amazing thing happened. He stepped onto the escalator, and he started to walk up the steps.

He was moving slowly, but he was moving. I nearly cried, I was so happy. I wanted to hug him. It was like watching an elderly Spiderman... nothing could stop him!

It made me want to carry a cane. It wouldn't be a sign of weakness, oh no! It would be a symbol of great pride! Never give up, never surrender!

Plus, I could use it to prod the next cluster of jelly-bottoms that I get stuck behind.

I love multipurpose tools.