Opinion: Learn the rules of the road, GHS

Why did the chicken cross the road? To get away from the people who can’t walk down it correctly. Call me chicken, but I’m tired of trying to maneuver the halls of GHS when no one else has a darn clue how to.

I was once a freshman, so I get how overwhelming it can be to walk fast enough and quick enough down the halls of GHS during the first weeks of high school. But clogging up the hallway like the toilets at Junior Event has become an epidemic afflicting freshmen and upperclassmen alike.

So please, I beg you, learn how to walk in the halls, GHS.

Pro tip one: Look both ways before you cross; specifically up and down.

I am 4 feet, 9 ½ inches tall. I understand if you cannot see me because of my short stature. Sometimes I’m even surprised to see my reflection in a mirror or a window, because most of them are much too tall for me. But my height isn’t the problem here.

Tall people: look out for us short folk. It’s a rough world for us already. We don’t need your elbows constantly in our faces to remind us we can’t reach the good soda in the supermarket.

It would be a big help if those of you over 5 feet, 5 inches were conscious of where you swing your bags, how quick you turn into or out of a classroom, or when you stop short to avoid the traffic in the hall. Your strides are three of mine, so it only takes one step before I’m on my butt or down a flight of stairs.

Biggest takeaway? Look down before you make abrupt moves in the hall. Just because you can’t see me doesn’t mean I don’t feel your chem book hitting me in the face.

Pro tip two: Stop stopping short to scream to your friends down the hall. You’re not as cool as you think are. Only Kanye can do Kanye.

The average person likes saying hi to their friends. The average person also likes keeping their eardrums intact and their faces out of your basic North Face backpack.

I get that it’s thrilling to see your friend three minutes after you just saw them in bio. Separation issues are all too real in the U.S, especially among the canine population, so feel free to acknowledge your buddy’s all too important presence.

Just do it *quietly*.

That’s right, humans have control over their vocal ranges. I’m not saying you have to whisper or anything, because whispering “What’s good?” to your lab partner as you pass by them is quite frankly creepy. Just say it quiet enough so that I can’t hear you in the science wing when you’re getting lunch in the cafeteria.

Pro tip three: Stay in your lane, people.

I get it, not everyone can tell their rights from their lefts. It’s unfortunate, but true.

What isn’t unfortunate is me getting plowed down as I walk out of English because someone is sprinting the wrong way down the hall like a bat out of hell.

Freshmen get a pass on this for the first week. But after that, which way do we walk down the hall? Let me spell this out for you.

T-O-T-H-E-R-I-G-H-T.

Walking down the hall doesn’t mean doing the “Cha-Cha Slide” and shuffling from left to right like an idiot. This is America, and that means you walk like you drive in America. We haven’t been British since 1776, so if walking on the right side is a news flash to you, revisit our constitution.

And if you’re an upperclassmen and still do this, at least have the courtesy to use your hand signals (even though half of you don’t know how to use your blinkers when going into the student parking lot).

Pro tip four: Walk faster, for God’s sake.

I’m guilty of walking slow in the hall. But when you can plainly see the line of annoyed people squawking behind you like a pack of geese going south for the winter and don’t speed up, I’m liable to push you.

We have places to go and people to see. I want to go to science class as much as I want to be stepped on by a gawky six foot freshmen (see pro tip one), but I also don’t want to lose time working on my engineering lab because your sorry butt decided to go fifteen miles under the speed limit. If I get yelled at by Coach L for not finishing my lab by the end of class because of you, I will find you, and I will kick you.

Alright, so I can’t actually do that if I want to escape wasting my life in detention (if the deans actually make students go for once).

But I am serious when I ask you to pleaasseee walk down the hallways the right way. It puts a serious damper on my day when I get stuck between over perfumed girls and stanky football players in a traffic jam in the second floor hallway. Multiply my frustration by 100 when I fall victim to elbows and textbooks beating on my face each period.

Moral of the story? Walk down the hallway like a normal person.