Last weekend, a friend and I were waiting for the “Walk” sign at a busy Los Angeles intersection. As we stood there, a young man walked up next to me. Pushing aside the possibility of a new aftershave called “Cocktails and Weed”, I was pretty sure this guy had been enjoying the high life. I looked over at him and nodded, and he nodded in return. He appeared to have a certain amount of “street savvy”, that I may never possess.
Finally, the light changed and the “Walk” sign appeared. He looked at me and said, “Can we walk now?” I replied in the affirmative, and then he confirmed what my senses had told me, “I have had a bit too much to smoke and drink, and I don’t want to get run over.” I assured him that it was OK to walk, and we all stepped into the intersection. As he began to outpace us, I looked at him and said, “Be careful.” This elicited a pretty significant amount of side eye from him as he said, “I am a pretty tough guy, I don’t need to be careful.”
Off he went. When he was about ten feet in front of us, he stopped and turned around, and looked at me. This is when my friend, who is given to a bit of drama, thought that he was going to shoot me or at least threaten me. But I am not writing this while nursing a gunshot wound. He smiled, and said, “Hey lady, thanks for caring.” And then he disappeared into the night.