On Monday, October 13th, 1997, I got this article published in the Glasgow Evening Times. It was the second article I had had published, the other being in a nursing magazine, and I got paid the princely sum of fifty pounds (about just under a hundred dollars) for it. Thought I'd reproduce it here although, I have edited it a little as, it had aged over time and needed a little tidying up and polishing.
First Person article: "Pavement Rage" by James Bradley, Evening Times reader
As a pedestrian, it's become apparent that the city centre is a dangerous place to be. I'm not referring to pick-pockets and muggers though. The dangers I refer to are of a far more sinister nature!
I hve lost track of the times when I've been making my way along the street when the crowd parts, just like the red sea, to reveal a child (or two) in one of those baby buggies, with the mother glowering at you for getting in her way. It's either dodge to the side fast or be run over. These contraptions can also sneak up behind you as well, snapping at your heels. I have the bruises to prove it!
Just as you begin to watch out for these mini vehicles, it starts to rain, and then there appears another hidden menace. It's usually my luck to find myself on the only street in the entire city where everbody else seems to be " vertically challenged". Walking along with their brollies (umbrellas) held high, they are blissfully unaware of the fact that their mobile shelter is either bouncing off of the side of my face or apparently trying to pluck my eyes out. So, its head down, arm raised to fend off those umbrella-weapons, while watching for baby buggies and trying to walk as quickly as you can to get off of these dangerous streets as soon as possible.
But - aha! - That's when you meet the dancers, the window shoppers and the terminally lost!
Dancers like to stunt your progress while trying to get past by stepping to the same side as you - frequently. They go left, you go left. They go right, you go right. It's as if they are reading your mind until, finally, you grab them by the collar and do a pirouette that would put a professional ballet dancer to shame.
Window shoppers and the terminally lost appear to have the sole purpose in life of suddenly stopping dead in front of you. No indicators, no hand signals, nothing. I hate to imagine what they would be like if they were driving. One moment you are walking along, the next you are bouncing off of someone's back. And when it happens, what do I do? Why, I apologise of course, as if it was my fault!
There are also times when I appear to become entirely invisible to people. I never knew I had this 'super power' but apparently I do, by a majority vote. You see, being a polite gentleman who was taught manners, I usually hold open doors for others. No sonner have I done this though, than it seems like the entire street decides to enter that shop - and all of them are quite content to let me stand there like some voluntary doorman. If I'm really really lucky, and the sun is shining, and it's a friday - one or two might even say "Thank you" as they pass through the doorway.
So, finally, I would like to suggest that the term "Pavement rage" is added to the New Concise Oxford Dictionary, as I, for one, can swear to it's existence!
That's all folks! :) lol
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