Sidewalk Etiquette

Today, I want to take a moment to talk about sidewalks. Yes, sidewalks. Most of (dare I say all of) us are are familiar with those lovely little [most often] concrete pathways we traverse with our feet that separate us from the danger of moving vehicles and large piles of dog crap often piled in the grass that often lines the space between curb and sidewalk.  

Most communities have some sort of sidewalk in place, and it's what most of us learned to ride a bike on, lest we fall over directly into oncoming traffic--save a few communities (like the one I grew up in, the lack of sidewalks always baffled me; still does to this day).

A bit of history about the sidewalk: it existed in ancient times! In fact, Romans were essentially sidewalk connoisseurs.  During the middle ages, they disappeared for awhile, but by the 18th century they made a comeback, and by the 19th century, they were in widespread use again, and have remained that way ever since. 

So, how is it that we are here in the 21st century, and there are some people that still don't know how to use sidewalks?  It's not just sidewalks in the suburbs that people have issues with--it's walkways in general.

The other day, I was walking my dog on the small sidewalk outside of our apartment, when I happened upon two people who were making their way down to the Chipotle at the end of the block (yes, we live down the street from Chipotle, and yes, it is as amazing as it sounds). Anyway, I watched these two people approaching, walking directly next to each other, as people are apt to do when they're going anywhere together.  

A bit about the sidewalk in front of our place: It is, indeed, small. In fact, it is comprised of two large-ish squares of concrete next to each other and that's pretty much it.  On either side, there is grass. Grass between the curb and the sidewalk, and grass that is classified as someone's lawn.

So, as I am walking along the sidewalk, I see these people approaching and I think 'they'll move out of the way.' After all, Cash and I were taking up one square as we were walking, and they were taking up two squares.  They had to move, right? It's common courtesy to use sidewalks in the same way you use a street when you're driving--one side of the sidewalk is for people going one way, the other side is for people going the other way.  Apparently, that was not what these two individuals--a male and a female--were taught about sidewalks.  They were taught that you can basically take up the entire thing and it's totally fine as long as you have an inflated sense of self or something.  Because they did not move.

No, instead, Cash and I were essentially forced on to the small grassy knoll in between the curb and the sidewalk. Cash was fine with it, he enjoys that spot, particularly the smells.  I, however, was not fine with it--and I sat there for a moment in disbelief, silently fuming, until I called over my shoulder "The sidewalk's a two-way street, you know." I didn't look to see if they heard me.  They probably didn't.

And, I know, the sidewalk is not technically a two-way street, but it is a two-way...sidewalk.  Just because you want to walk next to your partner, that doesn't mean that someone else should be thoroughly inconvenienced.  At least, it shouldn't mean that.

And it's not just sidewalks--people have this crazy notion that they can basically walk next to each other no matter what the circumstance, and you should be the one to get out of their way. I was at Disneyland, walking around Downtown Disney, when this happened to me.  There were a group of about four teenagers (17-ish? I'm bad at that game) walking side by side, coming at me, and the only way for me to get past them was to essentially throw myself into a small planter.  Which I guess is what they expected, or at least the girl on the end did--because she wasn't about to move.  Finally, at the last minute, she slightly moved, causing our shoulders to brush up against one another.

In the past, I have always been the one to get out of the way--the one to step up on to the grass, or completely stop walking to let others pass.  But, you know, it gets kind of tiresome--it gets kind of annoying realizing that most everyone else is less courteous than you are.  So. I've decided.

I'm not going do it anymore.  I think this connects to my last post--my moving out of the way of any and every person is the body language equivalent of saying 'I'm sorry' for my presence.  I'm not sorry for my presence. I exist, and I am just as worthy of a space on the sidewalk as you are, O Rude One.

Of course, there will be times I will move--for Children with parents, for the elderly, when I am the one in the large group taking up space.  But, for the most part, I will stand my ground.  I will be courteous to others, but I will assert my right to take up the [very little, actually] space that I occupy on this planet.

Prepare yourself, ye who don't know how to use sidewalks and walkways, for many shoulder checks from this little part of the planet.

A Little Smile Goes a Long Way

I have this habit.  I do it all the time, every day--it must not be normal though, because most of the time, I get these very strange looks: always unfriendly, always looking at me as though I should be shipped off to an asylum.  

It hasn't always been like this, though.  It feels like a recent development, its occurrence growing exponentially in a matter of simple years.

I call it: The frown complex.

Okay, that's not true-- I just made that name up right now.  I usually just call it 'the rude individual' and occasionally follow it up with a passive aggressive behavior.

Basically, what happens is this: I'm walking along, minding my own business, and I come across The Stranger.  I could be on the sidewalk, in a store, in the gym, at work, it's been known to happen pretty much anywhere.  We (The Stranger and I) make eye contact, and I proceed to smile, perhaps even give a slight nod of my head as if to indicate 'hello, we are occupying a similar space at the same time.'  And I am met with... the opposite of a smile.  A deadpan. A frown. 

What is UP with this?  I mean-- even if you don't want to give me a full smile, why not just a little half-smile?  Just enough to acknowledge and possibly let me know that you saw me smile at you and you aren't actually a miserable human being all the time. When I first noticed this reaction (or lack thereof) happening with increasing frequency, I'd still smile, and I'd nearly always be left hanging, a stupid grin on my face, staring at the most unkind expression that seemed to mock me (Admittedly, the mocking was likely in my head, but the absolute unfriendliness most certainly wasn't).  But, now, I've switched up.  That automatic smile is gone, it has been wiped from my face.  Indeed, I no longer smile at strangers without provocation.  In fact, when I happen to catch The Stranger's eye, I take great care to make sure my mouth stays firmly in place, the corners of my mouth down-turned, my eyes slightly glazed over as I stare blankly.  At the beginning, this whole 'not smiling' thing was pretty difficult for me.  I was so used to smiling at strangers, being friendly and polite, that it just came naturally to me, a full smile, showing my pearly whites.

But, now, it's a game.  It's Look At the Stranger and Don't Smile. And, I've become quite good at it.  I pull my face into a resting position, and maintain eye contact, making sure my lips don't turn upward or move in any way that could possibly be interpreted as a friendly gesture of any kind.

I know what you're thinking: That sounds a little extreme.  And, I'll admit that it does.  However, like all people, even the friendliest/most polite of us all have our breaking point.  Mine came a few months ago.

There is this lady I see pretty frequently--the first time I saw her, I complimented her coffee cup, and had a full on conversation with her about it during which I was very nice and complimentary and friendly in general.  So, you know, I thought we were on our way to being casual 'exchange niceties' pals.  Boy, was I wrong.

The next time I saw her was in passing, I smiled at her.  My efforts were returned with an icy, deadpan stare.  'Surely it was an accident!' I thought, always keen to give unfriendly people the benefit of the doubt.  'She was having a bad day, or maybe she wasn't actually paying attention and didn't see you.'

So, the next time I saw her, I smiled again, coupled it with a little nod.  Same exact response.  I continued to smile at her the next five times I saw her (give or take, I didn't actually keep count) before I finally decided to give up.  Now, it's a game I play with myself.  If I see her and don't smile and offer her instead a mirror of the same bored, disinterested, unfriendly look she gives me, I reward myself with a smile after she's out of my eyesight, and a mental pat on the back.  It's been months, and I haven't smiled at her once.  

Perhaps this seems a little absurd, but I was taught to always be polite, and to always smile--and just to not be rude in general. Pardon my saying so, but I think that offering someone an unfriendly look when he or she has smiled at you certainly falls in that category.  Is a smile so hard? 

I know there's a campaign going around about not telling women to smile, and I totally get where that's coming from.  Yes, women are not toys or dolls that have to smile on command when a man says 'you'd be so much prettier if you'd smile.'  or whatever.  But, aside from the ornamental use of a smile, there is another purpose that it can serve: it can let people know 'hey, you're not alone.  I'm here, too.' and you know?  That can work wonders.

My point is this: stop being rude.  In case you're not moved by, oh, I don't know, common decency, here are a few facts about smiles:

1. Forcing yourself to smile can actually boost your mood, according to psychologists. 

2. Smiles relieve stress, according to psychologists.

3. Babies are born with the ability to smile. (so, I know you know how, Grumpy Pants).

4. There are 19 different types of smiles. (I'll take any one you've got, GP).

5. Smiling makes you more relaxed, and boosts your immune system, thereby making you healthier.

6. Smiling is the universal sign of happiness everyone can understand.

7.  It's actually literally easier to smile than it is to throw that miserable looking frown around.

So, if you see me out in the streets and I withhold my smile, fixing you with a glazed over look, and you should happen to smile at me? I'll smile back--because yes, you are not alone.  I'm here, too, stuck in this world full of people who don't know how to do anything except look absolutely miserable.