I am at a crosswalk. Just as the walk light changes in my favor, sirens bellow and two great red fire trucks hulk out of the nearby station, lean around the corner and roll past like friendly Pixar monsters woken from a nap. Instead of crossing, I stand and wait for them to pass. Once they do, my light changes again, forcing me to stay where I am but I don't complain. The sun is in my face and the air smells of spring for the first time in a long time so I'm happy to just enjoy it. As I wait, four middle-aged Mexican men, deep in a rather animated discussion in spanish, arrive at the same cross walk. The strange thing is that instead of walking to my left side or my right side, they stand all around me. I know only very little spanish but I don't think I am the subject of their exchange. I don't feel threatened at all and actually begin to chuckle: they seem more goofy than anything I should be concerned about. Just as the light changes, two of the men reach out and do a knuckle bump right in front of me. It is all I can do not to laugh out loud. They hurry across the road. For a minute, I consider staying where I am in the sun and the warm, and see who else is going to meander up to this cross walk, but I continue across and run my errands. I've been chuckling about this all day.