I was catching the subway with my girlfriend. We got on the escalator and I noticed the left side was completely open, so I suggested we walk down instead of standing. She agreed… until about three-quarters down, when she sighed and asked why I was “in such a rush.”

My girlfriend has two modes when analyzing my movement:

1. I’m “in a rush,” or
2. I’m “impatient.”

If I walk on an escalator, I’m in a rush. If I walk faster than the crowd, I’m impatient. Somehow my legs have become a personality flaw.

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