Slow Walkers Will Spell My Downfall

    The year is 2085. Every tree in Malta has been chopped down, Labour is still in government, Kim and Kanye are having their 95th and 96th babies, and I have been stuck behind the same teenage girl walking slowly because she’s texting for the past 66 years. I now also have wrinkles because I couldn’t get home to practise my twice-a-day skincare routine.

    I am not entirely sure how some people have missed this memo, but I am here to reiterate it: It’s 2019 and people are busy. WALK FASTER. I mean, seriously, I already waste half my day stuck in traffic or at meetings that could have been e-mails; the last thing I need is to spend 15 minutes to walk 30 metres because someone who is able-bodied is taking a leisurely stroll on a random Thursday afternoon.

    And, no, I will not get off the pavement and walk in the street. That privilege is reserved only for cockroaches, whose sight frightens me enough to choose being run over over being accosted – or, worse, flown at – by the insect.

    I think it’s just common decency not to block the pavement and to walk at a brisk-ish pace. Also, pavements are not places where you should stop to have a chat or to loiter in the middle of while you answer your texts.

    More worryingly for me, being stuck behind someone who walks slowly for no reason drives me completely up the wall. It makes me see red and it continues to make me hate the idea of walking in roads that are already ugly enough thanks to the cranes, the construction debris and the general greyness.

    In other words, on behalf of all people who can’t stand slow walkers, I say this: We have places to get to, things to do, memes to share and lives to live, so stop walking like you’re going to live forever because you’re not. And, trust me, when you’re on your deathbed, you won’t look back at the time you spent walking like a snail with fondness but with regret. So, please, pick up your pace.