Pet hate.

I appreciate this is not the most pressing of issues, but it’s something I need to get off my chest.

I have, in the last few years, dramatically overused the expression “pavement hoggers” amidst the odd rant, referring to people who simply can’t be arsed to move and let me walk past them on my way to work.

Pavement hoggers usually shuffle around in packs, often in the form of homeward bound, post-school run Mums (they love a dawdle) – that, or giggling teenage collectives linked so tightly arm-in-arm that any suggestion of tearing them apart would be fucking OUTRAGEOUS.

They might be having the world’s longest conversation in the middle of the footpath, or heading in your direction hand-in-hand with their latest beau – either way, there’s not enough room for all of you, and someone’s gonna have to make a decision at some point in the next ten seconds.

Never them, of course. You are joking. It’s muggins here –  the one that has to step up and be the friggen idiot in the road risking my life because you can’t be bothered to share a measly bit of pavement.

Is it really that exhausting to shift slightly to the left or right to let me past you? SINGLE FILE SAVES LIVES, PEOPLE.  It won’t kill you to be separated from the person you’re walking with for five bloody seconds. They’ll still be there when I go past you. Life will go on.

Just fucking move, so I don’t have to step into a dangerously busy road as a result of your selfish pavement gluttony.

Bye now. Have a nice Bank Holiday.

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