#18: sidewalk creepin'

Scene:
You're walking to class. You must choose the most apt sidewalk for getting there. There are a variety of variables playing into your decision-making process: which sidewalk has the least number of awkward turns? Which has the best as-the-crow-flies efficiency potential? Which is not currently being watered by the sprinklers? Who would you rather see on your journey--music majors or business majors? Which sidewalk has the least number of bikers/baby strollers/razor scooters? All of the factors above make the sidewalk-decision-making process rather complex. However, you are not to be foiled by mere obstacles. You are a college student and daily have to make far more life-altering decisions than the one presently at hand, such as "which laundry detergent shall I buy from Walmart?" and "v-neck or crew-neck?" Thus, using your physical science skillz and your instincts for self-preservation, you choose the ideal path and proceed to follow it accordingly. You stroll down through the middle of the Flag Plaza, step over some we're-seriously-just-friends-even-though-we-like-to-cuddle-when-we-study co-eds, barely scrape through a life-threatening encounter with a razor scooter, and happily walk toward the student center.

But wait. You are not home free yet.

You suddenly spot a fellow side-walk stroller approximately 20 meters directly in front of you, and alas! his velocity is greatly lower than yours with an acceleration rate of 0 meters per second squared. "Blast!" you think to yourself. You were so close to reaching Evans with little to no harm to your person or your rep.

What are you to do? Already, the distance between yourself and said stroller has shrunk to 10 meters, and the gap is closing by the millisecond. Soon, you will have to pass your fellow walker, and everyone knows that the width of OBU sidewalks makes this feat impossible to accomplish with poise. I mean, you're not on I-30 here. What kind of subliminal messages will you be sending to your sidewalk friend? The way I see it, you now have several options...

stop, drop, and study:
Every little bit of time helps, my friend, and now is an ideal opportunity to snatch a couple of extra minutes of review over those Baptist Heritage notes. Grab some pavement, get cozy, and enjoy 120 extra seconds of learning. By the time you resume your journey, not only will you have allowed your fellow traveler the optimum time he needed to exit your path, but you will have also increased your chances of passing your class by .007%.

run like the wind, bullseye!:
Your sidewalk buddy doesn't have to know that there is no real emergency. For all he knows, you are in fact Clark Kent, rushing to the rescue of an elderly lady who has just fallen down the stairs on her way to the mail boxes. Sprint like there's no tomorrow, friend. And don't look back until you have long-cleared your slow-poke peer and reached your destination.

find a friend:
Heavens knows you have already guns-thumbs-upped/winked at/"hey"-ed to 90+ people in transit, so quickly finding a friend to help you thwart some awkward, sidewalk passing should be no prob. Turn that smile and nod into a full on convo, and let that fellow stroller ahead receive the ample time he needs to reach his endpoint unabated.

make a new friend:
Embrace the awkwardness. Accept the fact that at some point soon in time, you and the stranger ahead will be walking parallel to one another. Resist the urge in the moment to pretend like it isn't happening. Instead, use this as an opportunity for some community-building. When you begin to overtake him, grab his hand, look him into the eyes, introduce yourself and--if time allows--share your entire testimony. You never know where this new relationship may lead. Perhaps this will be the start of a beautiful, life-long friendship. Or, if he's a hottie, (and(preferably) if you're a lady), this could in fact be where the magic begins.