You Can’t Just Leave the House Without a Plan

I’m very understanding when it comes to other people.

Different opinions. Different life choices. People who think raisins belong in food, and so on.

But I have an extremely hard time with people who venture out into society without a plan.

You can’t just leave the house and hope the rest will sort itself out.

When I leave home, I know where I’m going. I know how I’m getting there, and I have at least a preliminary idea of what I intend to do when I arrive.

That feels like a reasonable minimum requirement for being out among other people.

Apparently, not everyone agrees.

There are people who walk into a grocery store and immediately seem surprised to discover that there are groceries in it.

They make it three steps through the entrance and stop.

Right in the middle of the aisle. Then they look left. Right. Slightly upward.

As if they’ve just been teleported into an unfamiliar civilization and are trying to understand its system of commerce.

And behind them is me.

I need to get past.

I know exactly where I’m going.

Milk. Toilet paper. Parmesan. Out.

I have a mission.

You cannot stand in front of me and suddenly start wondering what you normally eat.

If you need to think, that’s perfectly fine.

I’m very much in favor of thinking.

Just move to the side while you do it.

There should actually be designated “thinking zones” in public places. Small marked areas along the walls where people with wandering eyes can stand until they’ve regained some sense of direction.

NOT SURE WHAT YOUR NEXT MOVE IS? STAND HERE.

I would respect that.

The same goes for people who step off an escalator and immediately stop.

Why?

What exactly do you think is going to happen behind you now?

The escalator is still moving.

The rest of us are coming.

This is not the final destination of a pilgrimage. Walk ten feet to the side and do your thinking there.

And traffic.

Dear God, traffic.

I completely understand that sometimes you take a wrong turn. I take wrong turns too.

The difference is that I try to continue operating the vehicle while I figure it out.

I don’t slow down to six miles an hour in the middle of a main road, lean forward over the steering wheel and start reading house numbers while twenty people behind me are given the opportunity to reconsider their life choices.

Took a wrong turn?

No problem.

Keep going. Turn off somewhere. Park. Breathe. Check the map properly, in peace and quiet. Rejoin us when you have a new plan.

There is also a particular type of driver who suddenly realizes they may need to turn.

Maybe.

The turn signal comes on late, the car drifts slightly to the right, then slightly to the left, the speed drops, and the driver starts looking around with exactly the same expression as the person in the dairy aisle.

No plan.

Just a car.

That is an enormous responsibility.

And while we’re on the subject of cars.

Large parking lots.

There are people who slowly stroll straight down the middle of the driving lane with their face buried in their phone.

Not off to the side.

Not on the pedestrian walkway.

Right in the middle of the road.

And there I am behind them in an electric car.

Silent.

Very silent.

So I’m creeping along about twenty inches behind someone who is completely unaware that I even exist.

And I can’t really make my presence known either.

I don’t want to honk.

It feels aggressive.

So there I sit, following them at two miles an hour while the person in front of me reads something tremendously important on their phone.

Probably a reel about how to be more present in the moment.

But why are you walking there?

It’s a parking lot.

There are cars.

That is, in fact, the entire concept.

I realize this is making me sound like someone who wants to introduce traffic control measures throughout society.

And maybe I do.

Not in an unpleasant way.

Just a few discreet signs.

NO PLAN? KEEP RIGHT.

NEED TO LOOK AT YOUR PHONE? STEP ASIDE.

JUST REMEMBERED YOU FORGOT SOMETHING? DO NOT TURN AROUND ABRUPTLY. CHECK YOUR SURROUNDINGS FIRST.

I just think we need a little more advance planning.

Because when I go out, I have a plan.

I’ve thought through the route. I’ve put my errands in the correct order. I know which parking garage I’m using. I have a general idea of where the things I need are located in the store.

And then someone in front of me suddenly stops dead in the middle of the aisle and says:

“Hmm… what was it I needed again?”

And somewhere around there, my soul leaves my body.

Not because the person is slow.

That’s important.

I have nothing against slowness.

What I object to is unplanned slowness in strategically inconvenient locations.

That is an entirely different thing.

So I’m really not asking much of my fellow human beings.

Just that before leaving the house, you ask yourselves two simple questions:

Where am I going?

And what do I plan to do when I get there?

If you don’t know yet, that’s perfectly fine too.

Just stand somewhere off to the side while you figure it out.

I’m just trying to get past.