Crowds. There’s so much to dislike about them. The gathering of dozens of strangers in a fixed and limited space makes me anxious all the time. Close proximity, noise, heat, and movement disorient me and puts me on edge.
All those bodies you have to navigate through to get to your desired location, the jungle of legs and the ordered chaos that fool you into believing that there is a pattern in all those and then completely blindside you with one stranger suddenly stopping right in front of you or groupies clumping together slowing your pace almost to a snail’s speed are a nightmare for me. And then there are the myriad of colors that assault the eyes making them beg for rest every so often. As the natural and unwanted consequence of the sheer number, the heat rises as body heat and carbon exhalations multiply. Worst of all is the multitude of chatter that drown sense and clarity away like heavy fog on the hilltop. Different volumes of noise add up to cause the riot of sound that is pure torture to the silent onlooker. The endless stomping of feet and the clicks and clacks of heels of women’s shoes are like a hundred broken metronomes syncopating to no rhythm at all.
All I want is that prize at the end of this labyrinth of entropy unfolding in front of me. The singular purpose of every escapade and of every quests. The books, the grocery, or the food at the end of the tunnel is all that I have to think about to get through all these. And when I reach and gather them I am freed. But not until I rise against the monster called the queue.