Look Both Ways

In our town, where yielding to pedestrians on the crosswalk is the law, I like to play a little game of chicken. It's all in my head of course. It goes a little something like this...

When I allow a ped to cross the street, I smile politely to show them that I harbor no ill feelings and give them that quick flick of fingers to indicate that they should and can cross safely. During this time I look them over and either dismiss them or play.

I like the older folks.

I give them a head start and right when they're slightly more than halfway done I inch my car forward. If or when they turn their heads I still have my smile on and maybe give them a half shrug, "oops". Then I watch them scurry quickly out of the way, believing they see something a little sinister in my smile. What they don't see or hear is the command of my game, where the inner referee shouts "kill him!" Except the inner referee has a speech impediment so it comes out more like "till 'im!" (Or maybe inner voice is correct and wants me to "plow them down"?)

And that's basically the game. A nice little secret fantasy that I play.

Until yesterday.

I played this game with this little old man whom I'd categorized under "professor". He carried an umbrella that doubled as a cane, had on a fedora, and small, thin-rimmed glasses, a pair of tweed, pressed trousers into which a linen shirt was tucked and pulling at his collar was a small brightly colored tie.

What sort of unseated me and made me engage into the real play mode was that he was a nervousy fella, I pulled to a stop at the crosswalk and looked at him with my smile and gestured with my fingers. He stared at me for what seemed a long time as if reading my thoughts and hesitated in the safety of his concrete curb. I waved impatiently with my fingers, instantly knowing that this was perfect play material. But he seemed to have read my mind because he stood there still as if he was thinking it over. I could see the gears going, "she wouldn't hit me here, in daylight! But no one else is around, what's to stop her?" But then I flashed him my smile encouraging and endearing, removing all source of hidden intentions and that sealed the deal.

He crossed, but unlike anyone else he kept his gaze locked on mine. Just a step beyond halfway I urged my car forward. His eyes widened in shock and I gave him my little shrug, "oh well". Luckily he mustered a shuffle and hurried across. From there he watched me drive past, still staring, his fedora quaking.

He had seen me mouth "till 'im!"

Beware when crossing the street.

Me.