On Foot

I took the car in to be fixed today. It's having electrical problems--first the turn signal began to blink erratically, then one of the break lights went out. Then two of the four interior speakers fell silent and the driver's-side power window died. It's as if the car is having a slow-motion nervous breakdown.

The dealer's service shop is on the other side of town, so the problem became "How do I get home after I drop the car off?" It's a long walk to a convenient bus route from there, and I hate to waste money on cab fare. The weather is clear today, if a bit muggy, so I decided to walk. It's probably three miles in all, by the circuitous route I had to follow, but I have a good pair of walking shoes.

Interesting the encounters you have on an urban hike. At least four people asked me what time it was. This often happens to me when I'm walking about. I wonder if they really don't know what time it is, or if they're just trying to make some momentary connection with another human being. In a small town, you could say "hello" or "nice day," and get a nod or smile or "hi" in return, but that sort of greeting makes people suspicious in the city. It's often a prelude to "Can you spare a quarter?" or even a mugging, so people ignore it or move away quickly. You have to have a reason to talk to someone on a city street. So, 'Could you tell me what time it is?' someone leaning against the side of a building asks. "Almost 12:30," I say, glancing at my wrist. Sometimes I'm tempted to ask them why they don't wear a watch. They aren't expensive, after all--Burger King gives them away with a Kid's Meal. Sometimes I'm tempted to say, "It's later than you think."

I'm often asked for directions, too, which is ironic, because I have a terrible sense of direction. But I look harmless yet authoritative in my middle-class white-guy way, I suppose, so I'm the one they pick. They pull up alongside me in their cars, roll down their windows, and ask, "Could you tell me how to get to . . . ." I try to help, but I wonder how many times I've steered someone in the wrong direction. I wonder how many people have cursed me as they traveled deeper and deeper into the gritty labyrinth of Jersey City.

Oh, well. I'm home at last. My legs are tired as I sit here sipping a cup of coffee. It's a good feeling.