Street Fashion

So today, a couple of my friends and I walked over to Tim Horton’s for break. It’s not that far, but we still have to walk over and cross a couple of streets to get there. Well one of the streets we cross, is not at an actual light or crosswalk. It’s pretty much: you against the traffic. (Not that there is much traffic but still…) Anyways, I always have this fear of getting run over, so even if the cars are far, I will still run across the street screaming “Hurry! Hurry, Hurry!” (while my friends usually walk leisurely across and laugh at me). However, today on the way back, cars were closer than usual, so I (being my normal cautious self) stayed on the sidewalk, thinking that my friends would be thinking the same thing. Well they weren’t and they didn’t. So they ran across, while I, too slow on the decision making, ended up stuck on the other side. They just stood on the other side laughing at me and one of them kept motioning for me to cross saying, “Come on, come on!!!” It made me remember when I was a kid….

When I was a young lass, we lived smack dab in the middle of this row of houses that occupied the block across from my elementary school. My younger sister and I used to go across to play at the school playground all the time. My parents taught us to always walk to the corner to cross at the light. We lived on a major street, which wasn’t overly busy, but it wasn’t a quiet side street either, so crossing at the light was definitely something one had to do, even if it did take a couple minutes longer. Well one Saturday morning (you know where this is going…) I, being the older sister, decided for some reason (perhaps I was insisting upon myself???) that we were going to cross in the middle of the street. So my sister and I got ready to cross. We got into position, crouched down and I counted to three. “1, 2, 3! Go!!!” I yelled. We started running. (There weren’t any cars…as far as I could see). Now, you have to understand, this street wasn’t that far across. It was only a 4-lane street (2 lanes on either side). However, my sister decided that she was going to wear clogs that day (they were black leather with red piping and a multicolored flower on top. Very 70's chic. Fashion knows no age!) We ran across the street and I made it safely to the other side. My sister, on the other hand, tripped on her clog in the middle of the street and sat there crying, one clog on, the other lying beside her. Well I ran back into the street, grabbed THE CLOG, ran back and stood on the curb motioning my sister to get up! I was yelling “Come on! Come on!! Get up!” Sensing that I wasn’t going to save her, she picked herself up and finally limped to the curb, all the while crying… just in time before a van (or was it a truck?) drove by…

Yes. I saved the clog instead of my sister. It’s not my fault she wanted to wear clogs!!! (See…I told you. That’s why I can’t be the heroine in my own movie!!!)...Plus, it wasn't like it was a weekday or anything. So...

Anyways, I snapped back from my reverie, when I heard my friends calling for me to "Go now! Go now!" - just in time to run across before the next set of cars came.

Good thing I wasn’t wearing clogs.