Wide Load...

I entered the crowded coffee chain at 10AM, to discover that it wasn’t really that crowded, just jammed up by 2 people, each with doublewide strollers. This husband and wife team had managed to put a complete stop to traffic flow. The store was smallish, and had a couple of displays that were taking up valuable real estate (though not as much as these Peterbuilt Prams). As people shuffled in, and tried to move into the line, the prams held their ground.

Do these people have any concept of what they’re doing? Can’t you park those damn things at a meter and have one of you go in? Oh, wait. Neither of you knows what you want even though you both see this menu every day of your work week. So if you could fuck with everybody’s life, while adding 15 minutes to my coffee buying experience, that’d be great.

While you may think it’s quaint to have a stroller the size of your husband’s H3, nobody else does. That Baby doll tee from Abercrombie and Fitch doesn’t give you a pass, either. I don’t care how MILF you may think you are; you’re standing in the way of my coffee. So take off those shades, hang up the phone, turn off the iPod, make up your FUCKING mind, and get that progeny-riddled monstrosity out of the store!! MY LIFE IS LEAVING ME!!!

These goddamn strollers take up the ENTIRE width of the sidewalk, but then to bring them into a store?

“Excuse us...Excuse us.” over and over again in that condescending overly polite way stroller driving Mothers have around here. Clipping ankles and running into people as they muscle their way through, never stopping.

Maybe this an example of “I’m on vacation, so the rules of polite society don’t apply to me.”

Sir, I can see that you have your vacation pants on as well as your vacation sandals, and your very brave vacation hat. That’s great. I’m happy for you. None of this exempts you from the ire of people who aren’t on vacation, however.

Try this exercise: for 10 minutes a day try to think of someone OTHER than yourself...


now try harder...


The woman’s mega stroller is 6-point turned into a hallway, completely blocking access to the other room as well as the pastry case, while the other super mega stroller continues to block access to the line and wonders what he’ll order.

I move around him into the line, with a sigh. The barista asks me what I want, and I manage to suppress the urge to say “a tire boot for the SUV behind me.

I understand the need to air out the little people with a wistful slow walk through the narrow streets of Old Town, but a little consideration, if you please. For example, there is no need for your mate to walk abreast of the stroller. You don’t move fast enough for the locals, so just like on the escalators: stay to the right, so we can pass you...hell, stay to the left for all I care, but taking up the entire width of the walk is unacceptable.

This may come as a shock to you, but not everyone in Old Town is on vacation. IT’S NOT ALL ABOUT YOU.

So, I get my muffin and latte, turn around and nearly topple onto this fucking pram, as this idiot has all but pulled up to the back of my ankles, blocking me in. I stop, look down at the stroller and look up to him square in the eyes.

“Hey man, you need a CDL to drive this thing?” This guy doesn’t have the space to turn around or even move to one side and just stands there with a vacant expression on his face.

One frustrated sigh and eye roll later (a look reserved just for the tourists) I step over the front corner of the pram and stalk out muttering something about inconsiderate yuppie bastard tourists.