I’m a rider, not a walker.
Maybe I just lack the confidence everyone else does, but in the mornings I shuffle to the right and let the escalator take me where it will. In the meantime, I watch with a twinge of envy as a bevy of business-suited go-getters eschew the leisurely ride in favor of walking these magical moving stairs.
I wonder why they do it? I like to think that maybe they pretend they are wearing rocket powered shoes that allow them to ascend heights twice as fast as mere mortals. I bet they imagine they are wearing little Armani helmets with lighting bolts on the side and a racing stripe on their briefcase as they hurtle skyward at breakneck speed. I bet they look over to the other escalator next to them and see a rival walker and recognize their arch-nemesis. So they double their speed in an attempt to reach the top and be the first to rescue the bespectacled princess in her rumpled blue dress and tennis shoes carrying a purse large enough contain a small home entertainment center.
In the meantime, the rest of us watch them fly-by as we slowly float to the top. We must look a pathetic bunch to these superheroes. There we stand, clutching briefcases and bags and wearing little cards with our pictures on them around our necks as if we were delegates to a convention of the mentally retarded and at any moment we might forget our names or what we look like.
Why is it we are so afraid to excel as our friends on the left do? Perhaps we fear that such speed is beyond our control. Perhaps we are afraid that if we dared take that step over to the left side we might be whisked off into a high-paced world we are woefully ill-equipped to handle. We would be flung to the heavens without time to think and before we knew it our shoelaces would get caught at the end of the escalator and we would get sucked under the sidewalk as if being dragged by some urban Swamp Thing.
Myself, well, I have been a walker. I have felt the rush of adrenaline as you hit the escalator. The wind in your hair as everything around you blurs and you warp towards your destination. Time slows and some say that if you were to jog up instead of walk you might arrive before you actually stepped onto the elevator. I have never tried that – I might be tempted to kill myself before I got on the escalator thus creating a paradox and completely wiping out our universe as we know it. Who wouldn’t be so tempted?
But when I have reached the top, what have I found? A few extra seconds milked out of my day. A few more seconds that I will spend sitting in the office before racing home and plunging back down the escalator in a whole new race for the bottom.
So now I just ride the escalator and watch the walkers. Go softly on, bold heroes. I’m going to take an extra minute and watch the morning sky and feel the wind on my face. And check my card to make sure I know who I am, and where I’m going.