Pedestrian Olympics
I have this little game I’ve been playing for a couple decades. It’s something like jaywalking, something like Frogger. It has its roots in the frustrations of being a pedestrian in a city whose traffic has worsened each year I’ve lived here, causing lights at intersections to cycle longer and longer, and be increasingly biased in favor of moving cars and against even the briskly-moving pedestrian.
For instance, why do “Walk” lights at intersections only come on when you push a button? The law-abiding citizen who arrives at an intersection too late to trigger the “walk” light for traffic going his direction would wait for a full cycle of the light, which may take 10 minutes at some of the more god-forsaken confluences in our city. Seems to me that “Walk” should be the default state when a light is green. And why should developers be allowed to close sidewalks for construction projects, forcing pedestrians to scurry from one side of the street to the other, sometimes 2 or 3 times in the course of a downtown journey, and have to wait for 2 extra sets of traffic lights at each unnecessary crossing?
Faced with these challenges, I find myself looking for ways to cross streets mid-block instead of at intersections and the lights that confound them. I always look both ways, just like Mom told me, guage the speed of traffic in each direction, predict when a gap will occur, and then run like hell to the other side. Think Eddie Murphy in Bowfinger . In my 30s, I could easily do this over 4 or even 6 lanes, but I realize that, at 54, my fast-twitch might be more of a memory than a reality. Still, on a nice warm day, after a good night’s sleep, I might give in to the urge to play the game, either through perceived necessity or for sheer sport.
Yesterday was just such a day, and I decided, approaching the intersection of Wallingford and N. 45th and its maze-like labyrinth of crosswalks, to just zip across Wallingford before I got there. I picked my gap and accelerated into it. As I crossed into the far lane, I glanced to see just how well I had done and saw that the approaching traffic was led by a fully-decked-out Seattle Police car.
Mindful that a jaywalking ticket in Seattle costs something like $68 plus the embarrassment of the streetside interview, I avoided making eye contact and feigned obliviousness to the identity of my victim. I slowed to a trot upon reaching the sidewalk, hoping to convey that I was truly in a hurry for something, and not merely engaging in civil disobedience for sport. I had intended to cross 45th to QFC to use the ATM, but that would have entailed waiting a the intersection while the cop car pulled alongside. Instead, I feigned a headlong desire to enter the Wallingford Center, and bounded up the steps and into its innocent confines. I was pretty sure I hadn’t been pursued, but to make sure, I headed to Second Story Books, where I committed further fraud by perusing its shelves with no hope of comprehension beyond the titles - I hadn’t brought my reading glasses.
After 10 minutes or so of this subterfuge, it seemed that my arrest was not so imminent, and I exited the Wallingford Center and continued (legally) across to QFC and the overdue replenishment of my wallet. Along with the crisp $20s, I felt $68 richer and, daggummit, I can still bring it when Seattle traffic needs to be humbled by human legs.
