I run into this old dude in the elevator of my apartment building some mornings when I’m leaving for work. I don’t know his name, but I’ve given him the name Guillermo (emphasis on the ‘errrrmo’) because it seems fitting. He is a grumpy old man but his wife is social enough to make up for his grouchy demeanor. When we see each other in the mornings, he is always alone; frown on his face, wearing a black hat & long black trench coat. I may or may not say good morning and he may or may not grunt back a response.
We walk in the same direction for a short while after we leave the building and I’ve suspected that he doesn’t like it when I pass him if I’m walking at a faster pace. I feel like he always speeds up so that I can’t pass him. I thought I was imagining things, but this morning I was feeling mischievous so I decided to put my theory to the test. I made this decision while we were in the elevator so once we exited the building I let him get a few seconds of a head start and observed his normal walking speed, then I picked up the pace, closing in on him.
The second I came close to passing him, Guillermo began huffing and puffing, his left arm swinging out at an awkward angle as he used it to gain the momentum to keep me in the dust. Guillermo is tall, like 6 1/2 feet. I’m only 5 feet tall, so I had to take two steps to match one of his, but I kept up and walked faster. And he walked faster.
By the time Guillermo crossed the street away from me, I was out of breath and I know he was too, because of all the heavy mouth breathing coming from him during our unofficial race.
Now I know I wasn’t bugging out: Old dude, Guillermo, does not like it when I beat him at his walking game. I know I shouldn't mess with old people, but next time, and there will be a next time, I’m breaking into a run.
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