It’s high noon. Two strangers spot each other from opposite ends of a dusty trail. Though they have never met, each one now regards the other as his mortal enemy. They inch slowly toward each other, their twitching hands held close to their holsters, ready for conflict. They avoid eye contact for as long as possible, but before long their eyes meet. They are now perilously close. Beads of sweat roll down their foreheads. Their throats dry up. A family of tumbleweeds blows past. A decision must be made by someone, anyone, if disaster is to be avoided.

It may sound like a scene from the “Wild Wild West” once serenaded by Mr. William Smith. But it happens today, every day, much closer to home.

Yes, substitute dust with cigarette smoke, holsters with iPod cases and families of tumbleweeds with visiting tour groups, and you’ve got an example of the terrible inhumanity that happens hundreds of times each day on this very campus: People walking on the wrong side of the sidewalk.

The concept seems simple enough — Just like on the road, traffic should flow forward on the right side of the path. There may not be a dividing line there to remind us, but the unspoken rule of the sidewalk is written on our hearts, along with “he who smelt it dealt it” and the laws of calling shotgun.

When that rule is broken, what results is a game of chicken neither person wants to play. Is he going to move? Should I just move now? What if we both move at the same time? The tension builds to unbearable heights and you become frozen, your mind paralyzed in panic as your legs continue onward, oblivious to the ensuing collision because legs don’t have eyes.

When you finally do move at the last second, you and the stranger participate in a less-sexy version of the “Lambada,” twirling and dipping around each other in a desperate attempt to avoid impact.

Though decidedly unsexy, this maneuver should be no less forbidden than the dance that impregnated the world in the late 1980s. There are only three possible outcomes of this awkward exercise in mental jousting, and none of them are good: If you don’t crash into each other, you either veer into the other lane of oncoming foot traffic or off into the grass, which over time can cause erosion. Erosion, people!

Something must be done. Perhaps we should erect signs along the sidewalk reminding us to keep to the right under penalty … of DEATH. Or perhaps we should put one of those invisible walls down the middle of the sidewalk and issue dog collars that will give students a little shock if they wander onto the wrong side. Or, in a move that everyone would love, maybe we should replace all the sidewalks with moving walkways like they have at the airport. Those things are fun!

But until we get the funding for any of those surefire solutions, we just need to stop subscribing to the philosophy of the dueling bandits of the old west and realize that this sidewalk is, in fact, big enough for the both of us.

Nichols is a Stilwell junior in creative writing.