As an American I am exposed to things every day that make me extremely uncomfortable: The constant threat of terrorism, global warming, fast food, FOX news, and of course Tyra Banks. I recently discovered something else that makes my stomach churn more than accidentally landing on Bill O’Reilly’s show while channel surfing: people running up behind me on escalators.

Escalators make me uneasy in the first place. It might be because I don’t enjoy jumping onto things while they are in motion, or maybe I just don’t trust machines. More so it’s probably because while I was growing up, I remember countless public service announcements played throughout my Saturday morning cartoons that warned me of the dangers associated with these machines. There was one in particular that sticks out in my memory where it was demonstrated how the gaps on the sides of the escalator stairs could easily suck in a rubber pencil eraser, and how your shoelaces could also get caught in the same area, causing them to get stuck in the motor which in turn would drag you under the stairs to suffer the most gruesome and embarrassing of deaths. Even though we all know that most PSA’s are just out to scare us straight, this one clearly left some emotion scarring.

There are two classes of escalator users. First, there’s rider personality A, who is perfectly sane and strolls onto the landing to enjoy a nice, relaxing and stress free, motorized ride to the top. I’m ninety-nine percent sure that this is how the inventor of the escalator intended for the device to be used in the first place. This is completely acceptable and follows all rules and protocols. Rider personality B is someone who gets on the escalator and immediately runs as far up as many of the stairs until they reach the top or end up stuck behind someone. These people clearly confuse an escalator with a regular flight of stairs. This is unacceptable.

When riding the escalator with type B personalities, I am beyond uncomfortable when I am midway up my ride and the eager beaver behind me starts to sprint upward in an attempt to set some kind of escalator land speed record. Before I know it, they are on the step directly behind me, breathing down my neck, huffing and puffing to make it very apparent that they are frustrated by the fact that I am standing still. How dare I not walk up the stairs that are already moving of their own accord. Trust me, we’re all going to get to the top eventually. Apparently, by invading my personal space bubble they are under the assumption that they can bully me out of the way. It’s a shame they are not familiar with my world-class stubbornness.

As the ride progresses, Mr. Escalator Rider Personality Type B will continue to drop subtle hints that I will continue to subtly ignore. First, the fake yawn comes into play to demonstrate how bored he is with not being able to continue up the stairs that are already moving. The second hint is a casual glance at his wristwatch, which is really anything but casual. It’s a very overdramatic move where the arm must stretch far out and elongate completely before being brought back around to where the watch can be placed mere inches from his nose where he will then stare at it intently. The third and final hint comes in the form of an attempt to pass the person or persons in front of him. Wait. Hold the phone. I’m relatively certain that escalator etiquette dictates that under no circumstance should you pass someone while the stairs are in motion and I am pretty sure that breaking this rule is punishable by death. Need I remind everyone again that we are already moving?

The next time that I encounter Rider Personality B, I will let them play their game. I will let them drop their hints and huff and puff and when their last ditch effort comes into play and they attempt to pass me, I will turn around and push them. I’m not out to injure or harm, but I will give them a shove with just enough velocity, which will be predetermined by a well calculated mathematical equation solved by someone else, since I am dreadful at mathematics, so that they topple slowly backwards down the never-ending stairs forever.

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