Down With Bags On Wheels!

      After being reminded last week about how annoying NYC was when it rained (the umbrella issue), I was reminded this week of another problematic occurrence in the city... well, really everywhere these days. Now that the weather’s getting nicer and colleges are getting out, the city is more crowded than ever. Most of these newcomers don’t pay much attention to where they’re walking as they’re staring up at buildings or trying to figure out which direction they need to go while standing in the middle of the sidewalk (instead of on the side like anybody with a touch of common decency would do). Trying to power my way through these crowds is difficult enough as it is, but when a certain object (or weapon of stress manufacturing as I like to call it) is added to the mix, well, it just makes my life that much harder. “What is this tool in question?” you might ask, and the answer is quite simple... the dreaded bag on wheels!

     It happens to me every single day (and I’m sure today will be no different); my train arrives at N.Y. Penn Station, I walk to the escalator to get to 7th Avenue, and on my way I have at least 25 people who slow down my journey because they just HAVE TO pull those bags at a snail-like pace and make themselves as wide as 4 people while doing so. Then, I finally reach the escalator, my stairway to Heaven so to speak, and the person in front of me on the heavenly rising stairs just so happens to have one of those hellacious demon bags. We get to the top of the escalator (with tons of people behind us mind you) and this particular person has the nerve to stop right there, at the spot we’re all scared of as kids (the one where we think we’ll get sucked up into and lose our feet if we touch!... anyone else ever have this fear as a child?!... no?... just me?... come on!... you know what I’m talking about...), while I look like the d-bag as everyone behind me bumps into me and moans (afterwards they end up causing the same problem themselves as they stop to set their bag on wheels up, not worrying about or respecting the others around them, of course). When I finally leave the rising footsteps, it turns into a game of Frogger and Spy Hunter as I have to weave in and out of these moving bags, trying not to get clipped, occasionally throwing oil or shooting bullets at the bag wheelers. OK, maybe I don’t quite throw stuff at the people, but I always get the urge to walk up to their bags and boot them 50 feet into the middle of the street, looking them in the eyes shouting, “maybe you should get those shoes with wheels while you’re at it, maybe then you’ll move at a decent pace!”... OR, looking at them Jack Black style (think Anchorman) after I punt their bag, saying, “that’s how I roll!” WOW, wouldn’t that be ironic?!... I mean, their bag on wheels, me telling them that’s how I roll?... oh man, if only dreams came true... one day... maybe... but not really... possibly... sure. Anyway, when I finally reach my place of work and enter the building, I literally lean against the door for a few seconds, take a deep breath, catch myself, and then jump on the elevator, a touch less stressed before I have to begin my actual work (it’s sad that sometimes the toughest part of my day is just reaching my building).

     Now, I understand that bags on wheels are quite handy when going through the airport as it makes it easier to move your things around without causing you to break your back. Not to mention, basically everyone in an airport is doing the same thing as they’re checking their bags and hopping on a plane (minus family/friends saying their goodbyes and employees attached to that particular location). However, why the heck would somebody need a bag on wheels on the streets of NYC?! It’s simply never made any sense to me, especially since these people are roaming the city throughout the evening. I work in the city, I have back issues (and 2 bummed knees from all the years of sports), but I manage to carry all my stuff in a mere bookbag on my shoulders (and I have a metal plate in one of them) and that does the trick just fine, while not destroying my physical well-being in the process. It’s one thing if these people are arriving on vacation and are going to drop their bags off at a hotel or something, but that never seems to be the case as I see them lollygagging throughout the city, stopping in shops... sometimes I even bump into them on the train going home later that night (the last train of the night), meaning they dragged that weapon of mass destruction around with them the whole time, upsetting others just like me (the ones fighting the good fight). I just think people are getting more and more lazy and they need to stop... these bags are unnecessary for the most part and hopefully we see a decline in their usage... of course, that’s another dream of mine that won’t come true as I only see a rise in the future. Maybe it’s time to make wheel bag licenses, too? Man, I really wish these bags would catch on fire and stop, drop, and roll away... you see what I just did there?! For now, I’ll continue surviving my journey as best I can, but if I do meet my end, please take my movement over... make my dream, my city without bags on wheels, a reality.

If you have any questions or comments for G.K., email him at GK@LostYouthNation.com, and be sure to check back here next week for another random article from his unpredictable mind.