Are you a Stair Tailgater?

Even though this was designated “Hair Week”, I must put any further hair entries on hold to discuss something that happened to me yesterday and frankly is one of my Pet Peeves.

This is the issue of “Stair Tailgaters”.

Where I work the most convenient place for me to park is a four story parking structure next to our building.

I arrive there every morning in a timely manner, (wink, wink) and after gathering my lunch and other important items,(this week it’s a box of Girl Scout cookies), I proceed to the stairwell and begin my descent.

Now since this stairwell travel is usually my only form of exercise for the day, I always park at on the fourth floor to maximize my exercise routine. (yeah, right.)

Inevitably, or at least once a week, the minute I step into the stairwell, I hear and FEEL that there is someone behind me.

Now I am not talking 4 or 5 steps behind me, but RIGHT behind me!

In this instance it was a man and he had vaulted from his car and apparently was late for something.

Considering his haste and demeanor it was a Presidential press conference and HE was the president!

Now don’t get me wrong.  I am not one of those people who strolls down the stairs like they are a casual mall walker peering into the windows at Mission Valley.  I am usually cutting it pretty close timewise (wink, wink) and am hustling at a fairly rapid pace.

Apparently this was not good enough for “Mr.Olympic Sprinter” and he thought the best way to make me pick up the steps-per-minute was to follow me REALLY CLOSE. 

I’m not talking regular close but REALLY CLOSE.

He was soooo close to I could tell what kind of Tic Tac he had just popped in his mouth and what brand of fabric softener he uses.

At any second I expected him to leap onto my back, pull out his tiny horse whip from Del Mar and scream, “Faster Toots, times a wastin’!”

So I did what any red blooded American girl would do under these circumstances.

I………slowed……….down………

This sent Mr. Staircase into a virtual panting frenzy.

I wish I had been wearing one of those tiny bicycle rearview mirrors cuz I am sure he was leaping from one spindly leg to the other like a Broadway Ichabod Crane auditioning for the Lion King!

As it was, he was gasping and muttering under his breath the whole way as I strolled leisurely down the four flights of stairs to ground level.

“THAT’S RIGHT, BUBBA!”  “I CANNOT BE RUSHED!”

Now I’m sure they could enact some sort of stairway traffic laws that designate carpool lanes and turn-outs for slow-paced folks.  But as it stands now kids, once you take that first step you’re kind of stuck with whoever is in front of you.

Deal with it…..you’ll live……

By the way, when we reached the ground level and the runway was clear, I watched in amusement as he scampered off into the distance with his “Shape-Ups” on his restless feet and his tiny lunch bag banging against his hip.

Dork……

I am sure I was discussed in depth around the water cooler that day…….”You won’t BELIEVE what happened to me this morning!”  Blah Blah Blah 

Whatever…..

So today when I get to work, I plan on hiding behind a trash can until I see him get out of his car and when he gets to the top of the stairs, leap in front of him with a cheery, “GOOD MORNING!”

Can’t wait……Makes me laugh just thinkin’ about it…….

………I’m just sayin”