When you walk like this, people hate you.

I’ve noticed a trend when people are walking in public. Not the face in the phone, walk into traffic like you are some grown-up version of “Baby’s Day Out” that goes miraculously unscathed despite paying more attention to creeping on a colleague’s Instagram feed rather than oncoming Uber drivers. But let’s be clear: that IS a trend.

No, it’s more the complete lack of awareness about one’s personal space and laws of physics. As though everybody is the boy in the plastic bubble, not just a young John Travolta.

Like at the airport, where I spend a lot of time. People walking in airports have baggage. Emotional. And the kind that extends behind them like a 2,800 cubic inch tail. I have had my feet run over. My calves clipped. My faith in humanity and all that is good in the frequent flier challenged. All at the wheels of a rollerboard commanded by an unaware human.

When traveling, be mindful of the 2,800 cubic inch tail behind you.

Aside from being thwapped by the tail of travelers, I encounter a lot of the same awkward body Elaine dances we all do, trying to avoid full frontal contact with strangers, which I categorize as follows:

• Bathroom, aka I really have to go! I know you would like to get into the bathroom, but it would be easier if you let me out first. At most airports, this applies to both entering the bathroom itself and the stalls. I assure you that you, and I and our rollerboard tails are not both going to fit into this stall together, fun as that would be. Let me out, so you can get in. Help me, help you. And whatever you do, don’t touch me.
• Escalators, aka, the top of the ride, is usually where I like to stop and read my texts, look for my boarding pass, start fishing around in my purse for Fruit Stripe Gum. When you stop here, you are practically inviting me to a game of Red Rover. And you will lose. Keep walking forward, or step to the side. Have none of you seen the marching band scene at the end of “Animal House”? It does not end well.
• Moving sidewalk, aka, it’s not a ride, people. Stand on the right, walk on the left. And, if your width when standing, facing forward, does not allow another human and his rolling tail to easily pass by, please stand parallel to the rail. Not a judgment, just trying to enable the people mover to live up to its name. And by all means, do not stand side by side. This is not some moving couples’ moment, and everyone else on that belt not so secretly hates you.
• Speaking of sidewalks, let’s not act like every time we are on the sidewalk, we are in a “Sex and the City” and have to walk four across. (Credit to my friend Chaya Carey, who told a joke in stand-up class about this that makes me laugh every time I see it happen. Which is every day.) Actual New Yorkers, had they been stuck behind four women walking abreast, would have run Carrie over, and stolen the Manolos, leaving Charlotte crying, and Samantha hitting on the responding police officer. And Miranda just being angry.
• Revolving doors, aka, again, NOT A RIDE. When it’s our turn to enter the revolving door, odds are nearly 100 percent that the person already in the glass pie wedge wants out. LET THEM OUT. Unless you are looking to re-enact a “Godfather” scene, in which case I say, don’t. And also, RIP Moe Green.
• Elevators…it’s a sequence. Exit first, then enter. In other words, let the people off who want off, before you get on. Also, women get to get off the elevator first. No, it’s not the Titanic. It’s just the rules. Act like you have been somewhere and know that. And face the door. No one likes the guy who faces the crowd.

A warning…if you are in public, and you hear loud huffing or groaning directed your way, you may be in violation of one or more these scenarios. Or you may be being hit on. Hard to tell without the context. A little self awareness comes in handy when moving amongst the people. And unlike high school algebra, so does physics.