- The light won't change.
I've been standing here, waiting, for twelve minutes now,
and the light won't change.
-How do you feel about that?
-Well, it's kinda boring, it's kinda annoying, standing here
waiting all this time, staring at a road that's empty in
both directions, waiting for theoretical cars to
theoretically stop, so I could theoretically cross over
without being run over. Theoretically.
-I understand, but how do you feel about it?
-Well, it's really infuriating, now that I think about it.
It really pisses me off to be hanging around here when I've
got important things to do, and endless better places I
could be right now.
-Is that all?
-No... no it isn't. It's time.
-Time?
-Yeah, time. It's like for every second, every minute that I
wait here for the fucking light to change, is one minute
closer to my death. It's like that light is killing me with
a tiny knife, bit by tiny excruciating bit, as we speak.
It's maddening.
-I understand.
-Do you?
-Tell me, is this the first time this has happened to you?
-Fuck no, it happens to me all the time. I never cross the
street on a red light, you see, 'cause since I was little my
mom taught me never to cross on red lights. So I always wait
for the green, regardless of how moronic I may look standing
at a junction in the middle of nowhere on yom kippur,
besieged by nothing and no one, until that stupid cold piece
of machinery decides that it is now safe to cross.
-mmm.
-Yup.
-Where did you say you were going?
-I didn't.
-Yeah' well you seem to be in such a hurry to get
someplace...
-My mother's funeral.
-Really?
-Yup.
-I'm sorry.
-Yeah, well...
-Hey, you crazy or something?
-Why?
-It's your mom's funeral, man! Cross the fucking street!
-Can't. Red light, you see.
-What?!
-Told you already.
-you're not late or anything, are you?
-Twenty minutes.
-You insensitive fuck! And your whole family's waiting there
for you?
-I guess.
-How can you hold up your own mother's funeral like this?
And for a fucking stoplight?!
-She always said not to cross the street when the light is
red.
-But she's dead! I mean, I'm sorry and all, but she's dead,
man. You can't disappoint or annoy her anymore. But your
family, man... you're taking an already hard experience and
making it worse for them.
-I don't care.
-Oh?
-No, I don't.
-Why the fuck not?
-I know she's dead, but I don't really know yet. I
understand, but I don't comprehend. The automated,
Get-From-Home-To-Work-And-Vice-Versa part of me knows, but
it's not getting through to all of me yet. Y'know?
-Well...
-And some parts of me won't let go of the fear that she'll
see me crossing at a red light just yet.
-...
-They can't.
And just the same, I can't run across this street now, even
though I know that no one will chide me for it later -
because it would be wrong. Wronger than it ever was when she
was alive.
-I see.
-So no, I won't cross the fucking street. And yes, all my
relatives will give me that look at every family function,
forever, that flash of distaste across their face that
disappears just before they come smiling to shake my hand
and say hello.
And yes, they'll all feel sad for a little bit longer today,
and it'll be that much harder for them all today, But I'm
not ready to shove her under just yet.
And fuck them if they don't understand.
-Woah.
-What?
-Sorry man. Didn't know.
-S'ok. Don't blame you. I might have been the same if it
were the other way around.
-Hey man.
-What?
-Light's green.
-Oh... right.
-Seeya later.
-Uh, yeah.
Hope it goes alright.
-Yeah... thanks.