I was in Saskatoon last night and I was on my way to Boston Pizza. In order to get to my desired eatery, I needed to cross the road. Normally, I would have just jaywalked like any other efficient human being, but the traffic was busy so I decided to play it safe and traverse the road via the pedestrian walkway. I went to the edge of the sidewalk and pressed the shit out of the ‘I’m-in-a-hurry-let-me-walk-across-the-road’ button on the lightpost. When the happy little walker-guy finally lit up, I began to make my way across the street, my thoughts already drifting to what I was going to order.
Fear and horror took over about four steps across the street. When I looked back up to see the lit-up walker, I was astonished to see that he was gone, and in his place was a giant hand that blinked furiously, as if trying to give me a big, red high-five over and over again. I wasn’t even halfway across the street and already the hand was telling me to hurry the fuck up. With my body struck by confusion and fear, I broke into a disoriented sprint. The wind blew fiercly in my eyes and caused me to begin to tear up. Through watery eyes, I could see the other side of the street, and that evil red hand still blinking. Blindly I ran on, praying that I still had time left.
As quickly as the madness had began, it was over. I dropped to my knees onto Boston Pizza’s lawn and did my best to regain my composure. What kind of hate crime had befallen me just now as I crossed the street? Was it because I look Jewish? Did my curly hair upset the traffic-light gods, which made them rain down an attempt at vehicular manslaughter? I knelt on the cold grass and I wondered what happened to the world I thought I had known.
