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I am walking to my work today behind a woman who is clearly late to her work.

I can tell she is late because she is intermittently jogging. Despite her intermittent jogging I am -albeit at my characteristically brisk pace featuring shrewd route-making- keeping pace with her and, ultimately, we arrive at our shared train station at the exact same time.

What has occurred to me, or what has been made apparent to me in real-time, is that the much-skepticized operational logistics of the Friday the 13th movies are, as it turns out, actually quite achievable.

I feel like Jason Voorhees.

This woman even stops to tie her shoes, twice, reproducing in minor form the famous penultimate-girl flop or stiletto break, and when she does, I am immediately again upon her, having only a moment ago been around a corner, my ghostly white visage appearing in a Wilhelm shriek just above and beyond her right shoulder.