Are You Experienced?

If Jaywalking is a skill then I should have a black belt in it. Living in Boston, I could get from Downtown Crossing to Copley Square without ever having to stop for traffic, a 15 minute trek that traversed several busy streets, including Tremont, Charles and Boylston. There's an art to it that comes with experience. You weave between cars, gauging how fast a vehicle is approaching and instinctively sensing when to check forward momentum for a fraction of a second before slipping through the stream of traffic. Jaywalking requires a steeliness when it's time to step into the path of an oncoming car with mere moments to spare in reaching the safety of the opposite curb before it zips past, trailing an invisible plume of exhaust. The unspoken rule of Jaywalking is to never run, just keep to a smooth steady pace that doesn't impede the driver. Ordinary pedestrians can only stare in awe when a skilled Jaywalker boldly walks into the road while they hover uncertainly on the corner like wildebeest facing a river full of crocodiles. Some drivers can't handle Jaywalkers. They see someone stepping out with seconds to slip on by, and their nerve breaks. The car lurches to an abrupt stop. A car horn squawks in angry protest. Hands make rude, impatient gestures. And as you glide around the vehicle, you glance at the driver in vague contempt because you know you had clearance and his theatrics are ridiculous. If cities are considered Urban Jungles, then Jaywalking is a survival skill. Once you master it, crossing the street will never be the same.