SLOW

Every now and then there is this crazy old guy outside my office. Why do I say he's crazy? Because he hops over to the robot on crutches, sits down on a dustbin, takes out a loud shrill whistle, and starts whistling orders for those wishing to cross the street. And he gets upset if anyone ignores his orders, jaywalks, or looks at him as if he's crazy. Then he whistles louder than ever, sometimes letting the whistle drop, so he can express his severe dissatisfaction with the offender's disobedience by yelling in some unintelligible tongue.

He seems to appear irregularly, doesn't always get the robot quite right, and freaks me out every time I need to cross the road.

Maybe he's a ghost, an hallucination, an undercover cop, a failed musician or a jaywalker who got hit. Then again, maybe he's got a vision of the future, where crazy old guys get jobs regulating traffic.

# posted by Slow @ 1:11 pm