![]() Then, after just a few steps?Christ, I watched this happen?he got his left foot caught in a plastic shopping bag. ![]() Dragging the left foot, limping heavily, head lolling to one side, both arms curled up in front of him like a squirrel. I wasn't annoyed by this, though?he had every right to be moving slowly. It was there that I found myself reduced to a crawl by the slow-moving gentleman in front of me. The sidewalks weren't as wide as the ones along 7th, but people pretty much stayed in their lanes, and things kept moving. All I knew was that I just had to keep walking. When I reached my usual subway stop, I ignored it and kept walking, turned south again at 6th Ave. There were plenty of people around, but they were widely scattered and easily avoided. Twenty-third was wide and uncluttered, too. I stayed on 7th, because 7th was wide and uncluttered, until I hit 23rd, then turned left. I tend to keep my mouth shut most of the time at the office, but even doing that?perhaps even as a result of that?things add up. I hit the street and turned south, my head down, eyes unfocused, stomach turning clockwise as I argued silently (I hope) with various people and machines. Every time I looked up, something else was waiting for me. At about 10 to 5 on Wednesday afternoon, I gathered my things together and fled the office in a rage, my brain sputtering from the thousand tiny injustices and humiliations I'd faced over the previous?well, almost 10 hours.
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