Life On the Edge

Everyone's favorite Burbank motorcycle cop was stationed at the scene of the crime again today.

I spotted him as I arrived at the dead end, and so I stopped and hit the walk button once a second for two minutes. It beeps every time it's hit.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

He left eventually. I like to think I annoyed him into departing.

The walk sign still hadn't changed, so as soon as he left, I crossed the street.

Against the light.

The horror.

Back in JC, I'd told a Lyft driver about my Burbank jaywalking warning offense.

He'd howled with laughter, said the Burbank police should check out Hoboken sometime, and when he dropped me off, he said I was the happiest passenger he'd had all day.

I'll take it, but you other Lyft passengers better up your game is all I'm saying.