As most of us know, you've got a better shot of finding an e.p.t. in a convent than an available parking spot somewhere at U.Va. As a result, the majority of us walk from place to place (except Sunday -- Sunday was a day intended to stay in bed, giving prayers of thanks that you are, statistical miracle of all miracles, still alive).
Some people fight the necessity of walking and try to ride the bus instead. When they round a corner and see they are late for the bus, they will go into a dead sprint in hopes of catching it. As they run past car windows, they will see reflections of themselves running with backpacks closely resemble pregnant women backpedaling. Accordingly, they will swear off the bus system forever and begin traveling on foot.
You can tell students walk everywhere; just look at their jeans. The edges get so shredded and frayed that for most students it looks like someone soaked the cuffs in barbecue sauce and threw them into Mike Vick's backyard. They get torn up as a result of everyone trekking across Grounds in their Rainbows, which catch on the jeans and wear them out. You know who walked mile after mile in flip-flops? Jesus. And though I didn't get the chance to ask him, I bet that underneath the whole "immaculate Messiah" persona, there was a case of crappy arch support.
There are certain rules of etiquette that should be followed when walking around Grounds. First, sidewalks are like highways: If you intend to go slow, stay to the right. The left side of the path is a man's game. If you meander around without purpose, odds are better than not that 10 people late to turn in papers will have declared a jihad on you and your tortoise pace during various parts of the day.
Secondly, resist every urge to tear down the railing when you are forced to enter on the left side of the stairs when visiting O-Hill. I know what you're thinking: It's frustrating; you're not expecting it; and this is America, damnit, and in America we eat apple pie, play baseball and travel on the right side of the road. If folks don't like that, well, they can just pack up and move to England, buy an Aston Martin and enjoy London for all it has to offer while they toodle around the city back-asswards on its stay-to-the-left roads like some sort of dyslexic track runner. But for the stir fry, it's conceivably worth it.
In their travels on Grounds, students should also try to avoid the feared "jumping of the gun." This occurs when a student sees someone he or she knows and waves/shouts to them from some considerable distance away as they approach head-on. What ensues is an uncomfortable period of shame and awkwardness during which the two continue to move toward each other for an inordinately long time. The party that was greeted wonders why he or she ever began a friendship with the other person in the first place, and the greeter spends this time searching desperately for somewhere to look other than directly at their acquaintance. Upon meeting, the original greeter will ask a pressing question along the lines of "Any big plans for the weekend?" His or her friend will then inform the greeter that it is, in fact, Tuesday afternoon.
I'm always bound to encounter a wide array of people when I'm walking. At least once a week, I end up walking behind a girl yakking on the phone about one of two things. She will either be complaining to her mom about how schools with "classes" and "grades" are, like, so unfair, or she will be chattering away to a friend about how she's pretty confident she has a stalker and that, like, well, I can't blame him, but that this is just too random.
But at some point, we've all been relegated to walking to class in the rain. While gripping your umbrella for dear life above your head, it will slowly occur to you that umbrellas work a lot like something else: sailboats. Your umbrella will promptly be sucked out of your hands and inside-outed, at which point you will loudly declare yourself a rain jacket devotee till the day you die. You will be happy with your breakthrough and light up a congratulatory cigarette as you start running for the bus stop. Then you remember: Pregnant women shouldn't smoke.
Austin's column runs biweekly Thursdays. He can be reached at awiles@cavalierdaily.com.
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