Not my sidewalk

I’m certain every single child in my neighborhood has an e-bike or a scooter, and their parents said to ride on the sidewalk because it’s safer. Safer for them. The rest of us walk in fear. Zip, zip. Coming from behind. A muttered on your left, and that’s if they are feeling generous.

The whole thing makes me mad. I mentioned this to a friend, who said the e-bikes will be the end of our mobility. We, the sad old people who walk. They are coming for us. She said this is not our world anymore, and boy, truer words were never spoken.

If there was ever a reason to move to a 55 and older community, this is it. Except I’m betting the grandkids show up there to ride and nona and papa are pleased as punch.

I need a new game plan. I was planning to walk yesterday, but by the time I was ready, school was letting out. Gangs of them are released into the streets unsupervised. Hooligans. Officially, I’m not telling them to get off my lawn, but I do want them off my sidewalks.

But then I remember what my friend said. It’s not our world. Not my sidewalk. Get used to it.

While I’m at it, I may as well address the dog people. The law where I live is fuzzy on e-bikes and scooters, but there is a county-wide leash law people like to ignore.

One guy was jogging past me with his dog off-leash, and I said, “Please put the dog on a leash!” He turned around and said, “What are you gonna do? Call the police?”

I said no, I’m asking nicely, but that was my outside voice. I wanted to say, “No, because I am the fucking police!” Wouldn’t that be fun? Whip out a baton or something and take him down.

But I did not say that. Because I am reasonably civilized, and you know, of course, I am not with the police and don’t have the upper body strength to wield a baton with any force. And even with my extremely buff walker body, I’m clearly an old lady, and they don’t hire old ladies to keep assholes in line.