W hether you’re a senior living on North Columbia Street or a freshman in Hinton James, walks to class can be tedious, exhausting and super awk.
It’s sweltering 90-degree heat or fighting back tears as you toddle through an Arctic tundra. It’s a beautiful Carolina Blue sky and you’re skipping to your 11 a.m., or it’s pouring down rain as you slosh to your 8 a.m. It’s a pleasant stroll to your hall of academia or a literal sprint to your final exam that started 10 minutes ago — there’s really no in-between.
Walks to class color our lives with friends, acquaintances and weird interactions with old professors who probably don’t remember you. Here is a list of obstacles you might encounter on your journey:
People will try to talk to you: Whoa. Didn’t you see me with my headphones in and sunglasses on? This look says, “Do not speak words to me.” I’m sorry, Daniel from POLI recitation, but Beyonce is walking me to class, and I don’t need you to ruin it with your waves and desire for social interaction. Ask someone else how their weekend was, Daniel.
You will try to talk to people: Let’s talk about “Not Saying Hey” karma. Every time you do not acknowledge the presence of someone you legitimately know, the same will soon happen to you. You’ll yell the name of a pal you met in the Pit last Tuesday, and said person will look down at her phone. Or if her phone isn’t available, she’ll just pretend that something in the distance suddenly looks really interesting. (Word to the wise — do not say hey to friends who are running. They are probably running with Beyonce, which is like being carried by an angel through a dark abyss.)
Bluetooths (Blueteeth?): Are you a Wall Street business tycoon? Are you a soccer mom on the go who’s trying to take the kids to taekwondo and give rides to the movies while also running a book club? No? Then punt it over a bridge like Baxter in “Anchorman,” ‘cause it’s gotta go.
Bikers: They’re in the roads, on the sidewalks and in your nightmares. They’re almost running into you, riding dangerously fast down hills and making everyone fear for their lives. Maybe they could opt for a better mode of transportation, like a Razor scooter?
Dance Marathoners: They’re coming. They have clip-boards, they have enthusiasm and they have matching tanks and choreography.
SLOW DAMN WALKERS: They meet at an undisclosed location and plan their routes through heavily trafficked areas. A line of four walk in front of you, like a human chain across the sidewalk. “STAY IN FORMATION, MEN! HOLD YOUR GROUND!” they yell. They know you woke up late and are rushing to the Center for Dramatic Art on the other side of campus, and they’ll stop at nothing to make sure you don’t get there on time.
