Brinkmanship

Deep down, I think most of us want to be first. First is special, memorable, honorable. Who was the second man to climb Mt. Everest? Nobody knows... and as far as I can tell, nobody really seems to care. Sure, sometimes we're nervous about being the first to try something scary (like eatting really spicy salsa), and sometimes we're gracious and let others go ahead (like at the checkout), but they're usually consciously made decisions. Unless overcome by apathy, our subconscious prefers being first over waiting. This is the only explanation I have for the brinkmanship that occurs every morning on the New York street corners.

As the thousands walk, amble and run to work from the Penn Station area each morning, crowds gather and disperse, ebb and flow at each intersection as the lights change. Cars, trucks, street carts and taxis foolheartedly try to navigate the 7th ave area while the stampede of suits and blouses clog intersections. As the turning traffic sit blocked by the masses, the pedestrians await a break in the through traffic to hurriedly cross the street and be on their way. It's here, waiting to cross the street, that people begin to forgo the pillars of order and rank on which our decent society is based.

If you wait on the curb, someone will walk from behind me and stand in front of you. If you take a step off the curb, the next guy will take two. Businessmen in suits, fashion designers, restaurant workers, all will try and edge past you and get the coveted 'first' position at the crosswalk. This doesn't mean they're actually in a hurry; plenty of overly portly types will push in front of me then proceed to cross the street like cold molasses flowing uphill. People are just drawn to being 'first' in line to cross the street.

Of course there are caveats to my observations. It's worse in the morning than the evenings. It's worse closer to Penn Station and Port Authority than in Times Square. And its as civil as Tea at the Ritz compared to getting off the subway in Shanghai. Plus I'm cranky in the mornings, having just woken up from a nap on the train, easily aggravated by the slow walkers.

The only cure I've found for this phenomenon requires a noble courage and toes of steel. In short my solution is just to walk so far forward if anyone does pass you they'll get run over, then walk really quickly when the cars stop. I find it's the only thing that works. Well, that or you could display graciousness or apathy, both of which are probably safer for your toes come to think of it.