Because I live off campus, I have to walk over half a mile to get to class twice a day. Most days I enjoy the walk, particularly if it's raining and I can jump in puddles along the way. But there are some days when the creepers and idiots are out in full force, and on these days I have a special routine for getting to campus without getting molested and without killing anyone.
Step 1: Exit apartment, dodging random creepers hanging out around door.
I usually mumble a mandatory greeting at any neighbors who are out and pretend not to be fully aware of what they did in the parking lot the night before. Don't ask, you don't want to know.
Step 2: Take the sketchy shortcut through the neighboring set of apartments.
Here I like to pretend to be in an action movie, dashing around, hiding behind parked cars while trying not to step on shards of glass or condoms and syringes.
Step 3: Cross the scary road that has no lighted crosswalk because apparently the DOT hates students and wants us all run over by buses.
Here I must avoid getting hit by the many idiot students who drive monster trucks. Mid-street I tend to realize I didn't do my homework and panic before deciding I couldn't care less.
Step 4: Get honked at / whistled at / something nasty yelled at me.
Your horn, you pervert, not my breasts!
This is the part where I mentally design "honk if you're a creeper" t-shirts, making a note that the shirt needs to come in size "Adorable Victim." Colors should include roofied red, jailbait jade, and molest-me maroon.
Step 5: Check to see if there's anyone on the other side of the road to race.
Spot somebody, and begin speed walking. See if they notice. Get competitive. Form a team with anyone nearby. Trash-talk the other team. Run when the other team gets pissed.
Step 6: Get forced off the sidewalk by a skateboarder or bicyclist.
This will happen about 20 more times, but I'm not going to bother listing it again.
Step 7: Judge whoever is walking in front of me based on what they're wearing.
Girl in the tank top "dress," you're not fooling anyone—we all know you just couldn't find your pants this morning. Guy riding a bike in low-rise jeans—watching your pants fall further down each time you pedaled was the highlight of my morning… until I saw your hairy ass. And to the two girls in bikinis, while your determination to tan is inspirational, it's 8am, and not over 40 degrees yet. Great idea, dubious timing.
Step 8: Get asked for directions to Government Center.
As usual, I have no idea what they're talking about, so I direct them to the beach instead, or to Planned Parenthood if I'm feeling giggly.
Step 9: Get run off of the sidewalk by three assholes coming toward me who are next to each other.
I spend the next five minutes muttering profanities about them under my breath. This gets me weird looks from everyone who passes me as they wonder what they did wrong.
Step 10: By now I'm approaching the bus stop.
I can't help but want to buy stuff from him though.
Here I futilely employ avoidance maneuvering and walk as far away as possible from the random guy who seems to live there. It helps to pretend to be texting, or to walk quickly with my head down.
Step 11: Get hit on anyway.
It was inevitable, and I refrain from flipping him the bird only because he's from the sketchy apartment complex by the bus stop and looks scary as hell.
Step 12: This is the part where I trip over the uneven sidewalk, but recover brilliantly by pretending to need a 2-second jog.
I then blush, because I know that no one bought my little clever jogging ruse. Okay fine, I'm a terrible liar, the sidewalk was perfectly even.
Step 13: Realize I'm late for class, and walk just fast enough that I'll be there in time to sign in, but slow enough that I'll miss the professor's beginning of class attempts to relate to students.
It doesn't "Depend" on your point of view, you're still old.
Look we get it, you're hip and young still, despite all your grey hair and wrinkles. Maybe if you weren't wearing an adult diaper it would be a little more believable.
Step 14: Finally get to the last crosswalk, but have to wait twice through the traffic light to be able to cross because the fucktard who got there first was incapable of pushing the button to cross.
Cross the road, avoid getting hit by the bus that feels it has supreme right-of-way. Give dirty look to the person who didn't push the cross button as I speed walk past them debating whether or not to push them in front of the bus.
Step 15: Arrive to class 10 minutes late, find a seat next to a sane looking person, try and fail to get notebook out quietly.
Nap, using the notebook as a pillow. Wake up in a puddle of my own drool with a notebook imprint on my face and reverse the order of the steps back home.