If you aren’t in danger of being run-over, stop, for a moment, to consider the number of transport methods that rely on the wheel. You’ll be astounded, especially at the differing methods of expressing things that some of their owner’s use.
Historians disagree as to who invented it and when, but since appearing, they have come in all shapes and sizes. It’s not terribly common to see Penny-Farthings on the streets anymore, and Bickerton’s fold-up variety is also rather rare. Many cyclists from Denmark, Holland, or Sweden get profoundly upset should you, as a pedestrian, happen to get in their way. Be thankful for not being able to speak the language(s).
Who invented this doesn’t seem to matter when you are facing a Hell’s Angel.
The children’s scooter
“It’s mine”, “no, it’s mine” etc.
One minute they’re there, the next by the sweets.
The car (lorry, van etc.)
Again, there is disagreement as to its inventor(s), but there are also many different ones to choose from. The expressions of displeasure should you get in the way of it’s driver require no verbal skills at all; it’s all in the body-language.
Although I have never encountered either a businessman or businesswoman in full office attire gleefully mowing down innocent pedestrians whilst on their way to work, it strikes me that increased use amongst city populations would cut down the size of the rush hour. I hope they’ve remembered to ask somebody how to bra….The type of body-language will depend on which bit is not in plaster.
The supermarket trolley
As far as I’m aware, this is not an approved form of transport. Remember to gesticulate wildly at asking for help whilst going downhill in one. You’re probably off yours anyway.
Not an uncommon sight almost anywhere you find asphalt. Some people use them to get to/from work, others in various states of undress under the Californian sun, and professionally clad aggressive-looking Norwegians use them with long poles. Better to just step aside and let them get on with it.
To be found on the feet of those who wish to stay in shape for skiing in the summer. As a non-aggressive motorist, I wouldn’t mind if they stuck to the cycle-paths; it’s when they get on a road that they really look daft. There they are, toiling away, up or down the tarmac, with the sympathy-expecting grimace to be seen in the rear-view mirror when you’ve finally managed to pass them safely. I’m often tempted to draw along side them, push the electric window-button, and ask if:
a) they’re enjoying themselves,
b) they’re feeling alright, or
c) they’ve noticed that there’s no snow.
The best bit is that all their limbs are far too occupied to do anything else.
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