I’ve noticed in recent weeks that my ability to walk when I know someone is looking in the direction I am in – not necessarily at me, but in my direction – is failing. It’s always been pretty poor, as I’m sure it is with other people. You walk past a group of people, you start having weird kinks in your step. You see an attractive young lady walking towards you on the pavement, suddenly you lurch to one side as if you’re a startled rapist (you’re not. Usually). You know there’s someone walking behind you, you start with the Ministry Of Silly Walks routine even though you didn’t mean to.
But recently it seems to have become worse. Some would say it’s down to the fact I’m more self-conscious than I have been in a while, with my confidence at an all-time low, my life in a bit of a rut and my prospects not looking like being much beyond poverty in Bournemouth for the foreseeable future. All this leads to overanalysing a situation when somebody is looking at me and hence walking like a weird twat.
Some would say that. I wouldn’t. I’d say it’s because I’m such a renegade – such a total rebel – that I don’t see the need to subscribe to your pathetic notions of what a ‘normal’ walk is. You see a stumbling oaf who bends his legs in a fashion that can’t be entirely natural, I see a New Way. You see someone who seems to be admonishing himself out loud for stumbling a bit while looking squarely at the floor, I see someone who doesn’t need the ability to not trip up over a flat pavement and who also likes talking to himself. Aloud. In public.
Hmm. Is this fooling anybody?
I stumbled over a pine cone today. In fairness, the girl that caused this was very attractive, and I’m pretty sure she smirked at it. It may have been a “ha ha what a goit” laugh, but it was still a laugh. They all count.