Birds of a Feather

As human beings, we all have faults and foibles. Some of these are more forgivable than others: but there's one particular aspect of human behaviour that, while it might not rate highly on the importance scale, is number one with a bullet on the annoyance index.

I refer to this specific behaviour as cinema syndrome. Catchy name, isn't it? I define cinema syndrome as the inevitable propensity for people to gather in a space guaranteed to cause other people maximum inconvenience. As a plague, it doesn't kill, main, or injure; but it does annoy, irritate, and frustrate the bejeezers out of you. In fact, I'm willing to bet the irritability caused by cinema syndrome has resulted in more than one person thus afflicted doing something really stupid: such as having a catastrophic row with their spouse, for example, or driving while still in the grip of a rage, thus endangering themselves and others.

What the hell am I talking about? I hear you wonder. Well, let me give you a common example.

Have you ever noticed when you go the flicks that, after the film, people don't file out of the cinema and walk into the wide open spaces of the foyer? Instead, they congregate around the exit, impeding the flow of traffic out of the cinema while they dither about whether or not they need to go to the toilet, or engage in otherwise useless activities such as rubbernecking for friends or family members from whom they have somehow become separated in the interval between leaving their seat and exiting the cinema. Others just stand there talking, right in the middle of the exit, utterly oblivious to the people trying to leave and whose path they are blocking. Worse still, if in trying to get past this obstacle of stationary thoughtlessness, you have the temerity to ask them (however politely) to make way, they give you looks of such lethality the hair on the back of your neck shrivels up and dies.

This is what I mean when I talk about cinema syndrome. It happens at the movies, at the theatre, at rock concerts and orchestral recitals. Any place where you combine large numbers of people with small exits. People can't seem to help themselves: they just stand there making life difficult for the rest of us.

Mind you, cinema syndrome doesn't just happen at the locale for which it is named. It also occurs, for example, on public transport. School kids are notorious for congregating in the doorways and cluttering up the floorspace with their bags, making a virtual obstacle course of any train or tram in which they happen to be travelling. And, yes, I know that often they have little choice because the train/tram is either full anyway, or the size of their schoolbags makes standing anywhere else rather difficult. Frankly, however, I've witnessed too many examples of students (and, it has to be admitted, other passengers) who've quite deliberately positioned themselves right next to the doors because they were too lazy to move to the back of the carriage, or because public safety was less important than the opportunity to gossip afforded by congregating in the entrance. And, for the record, I've also seen enough examples of people nearly breaking their necks as a consequence of being forced to negotiate the labyrinth of bags and students for me to know whereof I speak.

Cinema syndrome also occurs on the footpath. Melbourne's CBD is blessed by having nice wide footpaths; however, some people think this is an excuse to engage in a particularly infuriating form of mobile loitering. And that's not an oxymoron, either; it actually happens. Just ask any person who's been running late for an appointment, or who has otherwise had somewhere they need to get to as a matter of urgency: they'll tell you they'll inevitably encounter a group of people strung out across the whole footpath, strolling along at a genteel pace and idly chatting to one another as though no-one else has anywhere to go. And the most annoying thing is that this oblivion to the needs of others forces you either to go around the offending group by stepping out into the road (and thus into the path of any traffic), or else come across like a pushy bastard by squeezing your way through their strolling skirmish line. And you just know that if you do the former you'll be subjected to bemused looks and thoughts along the lines of "what an idiot"; while, if you adopt the latter course, you risk scorching the back of your head with their glares of outraged propriety.

Not that I'm advocating people should be pushy or aggressive, nor that we should live our lives at the pace of a hundred meter sprinter on acid. However, I really don't think it's too much to ask to suggest that perhaps folks ought to be a tad more aware of their surroundings. Congregate in spaces designed for the purpose: ie, foyers, not doorways! And if you're out and about with a group of friends, by all means walk at your own pace - just don't take up the whole footpath while you do it. That's all I'm asking for: just a teensy, weensy bit of consideration...

Anyhoo, I gotta go. I've just inspired myself to get out there and suggest to my fellow citizens that they stop clogging the s-bend of society.

Talk to you soon,

BB.

Quote for the Day: Moral indignation is 2% moral, 48% indignation, and 50% envy. (Vittoria de Sica)