Short Takes on a Strange Place--Part 5

Why you stop?

This question was asked one Sunday afternoon. Driving around Forest Hells (Hills), a place I have absolutely no connection to. A place so far removed from my life that I cannot possibly care what has happened here, or what may happen here in the future (1 year only and we are out the fucking door, or so we say now). The Ramones are from here, but big deal; they moved away before they became famous. It takes so long for a place to finally weave into your life. To settle into your bones, to become a part of you, and end up in your memories, your dreams. I see none of that happening here. This is just a temporary stop along a uncertain road being navigated by a half blind man.

So, yeah, I was driving my car around Forest Hills looking for this stupid mall where I was going to buy some "proper" clothing for my new job. I was about to cross an intersection when the light turned green. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, these two black kids on little scooters came flying out in front of me. I came to an abrupt stop, and both kids sort of stopped, not fully committing to the street, but still lurching out a bit. I panicked a little and thought, "What the fuck!?" I could have easily ran those kids over. But would it have been my fault? The light was green for me, and these kids were not supposed to cross yet. So my window was down, 'cause it's so damn hot here, and one of the kids bellows out, "Why you stop!?" What the hell? Was I supposed to keep moving and run them over? They surely didn't seem like they were going to stop. Somebody has to stop, right?

I finally got going again and took off slowly down the street. The lingering effects of a near accident floating around in my head. These kids may have had some sort of death wish. But then I thought about how most of the people living in New York City are conditioned to tolerate shitty driving. I was not driving shittily, on the contrary I was being careful and aware of everything around me. I think these kids were shocked that somebody actually stopped for them. These kids are used to almost being ran over daily by inconsiderate, selfish drivers, and here I am trying to be cautious and patient, and all I get is a bunch of lip from some little punks.

So when the kid said, "Why you stop?" In retrospect I really do have to stop and wonder why am I trying to be so careful when everyone around me is loosing control everyday? Perhaps it is just a matter of time before I'm running out into traffic and yelling at people for not hitting me. It doesn't make any sense, then again, a lot of things don't make sense here.