The Scofflaw

I live in a little town called Coronado. It's an island in San Diego Bay, where people raise their families, retire, obey traffic laws, go to church, and are polite to each other. It has the feel of a small town in Ohio.

Last week I needed to go to San Diego, and I decided to take the ferry instead of driving. While I was waiting for the ferry, I struck up a conversation with a lady who was also waiting. I would guess her to be about 55. We chatted about the weather, life in Coronado, the ferry, and her grandkids. She seemed to be a nice lady - a typical Coronado resident.

The ferry soon arrived and we boarded. About 15 minutes later, we reached San Diego and I happened to be behind her as we disembarked. She walked up the gangway, onto the sidewalk, and ignored the "Don't Walk" sign which was flashing on the other side of the intersection at Harbor Drive and Broadway. Luckily, the cars in the process of making a right turn across the lanes where she was walking saw her and stopped. I waited for the light to change and then followed her along Broadway.

All the while, she seemed to be walking faster, clutching her purse ever tighter to her body, and in more of a hurry with each step. The next intersection was at Kettner Blvd and the trolley line. When she reached there, the lights were flashing and bell was ringing, in preparation for the trolley. She ignored the lights and the bells and continued right across the street and the tracks. The trolley didn't hit her.

She was not really in any danger at either of the intersections. There were no cars coming when she began to cross the street, and the trolley was far enough away that she could easily cross safely.

My point is that this nice old lady, who I had been talking pleasantly with only a few minutes before, was remarkably transformed into a hurried, purse clutching, scofflaw, and less than model citizen, the moment she arrived in San Diego.

I wonder what causes that.