This sidewalk's mine, bitch.

Apparently my exotic French Canadian, Polish, Irish and Welsh Euro-mutt heritage tricks the residents of Berkeley into thinking that I do not understand English or American customs. I am highlighting the absence of manners and the word, "Excuse me."

My exotic heritage belies my grasp of English and my tolerance for rudeness. Since moving to Berkeley I have observed this liberal enclave as a home to a strange breed. Entirely unrelated to each other, yet having an underlying connection.

No one moves for oncoming pedestrian traffic while on the fuckin' sidewalk. Every time I walk down Shattuck or Telegraph or Channing or Durant or where the fuck ever, no one ever moves. It's as if I do not exist!

Does the West Coast discriminate against French Canadian, Polish, Irish, Welsh people? Are my people invisible? Confidently I answer that question with a 'No.' Reason being- I've walked with people who do not share my ethnicities and the habit remains. Wordless and uninvited walk-offs. And since they're uninvited and I've received no invitation citing the whereabouts and time of the rude shoulder rub that leaves me off kilter, I am left with my mouth agape, incredulous to the cantankerous rudeness endemic to this little city. But instead of fellow sidewalk patrons soothing me with an understanding, "I can't believe what I just saw! Not even a verbal acknowledgment!" they stare at me as if I were an annoying crack in the sidewalk. As if I should have moved.

The immorality that no one but myself and a few other East Coasters recognize which is deemed as even more contentious than the shoulder jolt is the lack of the phrase, "Excuse me." Berkeley is home to a large international population, yet "Excuse me" is a two word phrase in the front of every pocket dictionary for foreigners. And even if you don't know any English there are cognates close enough, such a "Excusez moi" for Pierre et Elodie and "Scusi" for Roberto e Antonella. Aside from that, the international symbol for anyone foreign needing any sort of assistance, whether it be the Heimlich or asking for the time, is a smile. A simple smile will wipe away any ill feelings I incur from the omission of "Excuse me" or the lack of recognition noting someone else (me) would like to walk on the sidewalk with the same luxurious strides other people are privy to.

Berkeley's Rude Walker epidemic is a daily struggle. Some say, 'if you can't beat em' join' em.' So I tried to join them. I walked down Shattuck the other day ignoring oncoming pedestrians. At first I felt rude. I mean, even in New York City people say 'Excuse me', even if they add an expletive to emphasize urgency. But the more people I forced onto the road and into bushes the more the feelings of remorse subsided. Take that, JERKS. This is what happens when you mess with Mapes. Watch that shrub, sucka!

From a short distance I saw a stroller and that's when my moral judgment was tested. A cute couple taking a leisurely walk. They never did anything to me- but wait, it's not about them or what they did- this is about the greater good- this is about taking back to sidewalk, for myself.

Thorns in my forearm and branches licking my neck. I moved aside for the couple and their stroller, right into a bush as they walked along, unaware of the rash I would receive from whatever plant I was just choked by. I couldn't do it- I couldn't ruin their walk.

In the end, I can't ruin anyone's walk. Is it an East Coast thing? Morals? Laziness? Politeness?

No. Just the ability to let people walk all over me and my friggin' sidewalk.