Crossing the Street With Jeri Stein

Jeri Stein

As people, we wear many hats; you know—husband, child, student, teacher, eyewitness account to that little girl who went missing in the summer of ‘86. But I think one of the worst hats we wear as people is the hat of a pedestrian. If pedestrianism was a hat, it would be a Mets baseball cap full of used needles. I mean, when do you feel more like a cretin than when you’re crossing the street? Sure, you have the right of way and all of the other cars have a red light so they couldn't even go if they wanted to. But yet, I still can’t shake the feeling that somehow I'm the schmuck.

Tell me another situation where more eyes are on you than when walking through a busy intersection. I've never been more insecure than when walking in front of a family of five in a 2009 Kia sedan. I can feel their road-rage eyes and hear their internal monologues about me. “Look at this lanky, short, weird pedestrian. Why are you walking so weird? Were you shot in the legs 50 times and started rejecting your transplant legs because you were too lazy to get up and go to physical therapy JUST LIKE HOW YOU’RE TOO LAZY TO GET UP AND GET YOUR LICENSE.” I just wanna yell back “HEY I HAVE MY LICENSE! I JUST MAY HAVE GOTTEN INTO A CRASH BUT THAT’S BEYOND THE POINT. MAYBE I JUST WANTED SOME FRESH AIR, AND THE WALK IS GENETIC!”

But I can’t really stand there and yell because I've got six seconds left on the walk sign and some driver is trying to make a right on a red, so now I gotta do the stiff little jog across. Again, even though I am totally in the right because what am I supposed to do, stop in the middle of the street so you can make your right on a red? You're supposed to yield to ME! But even with all that logic, I do the stupid gallop so they can make their right. I make it across the crosswalk and a wave of relief washes over me because I've never felt more hated and insecure than in this 15-second crosswalk.