A Glorious Friday Afternoon and New Orleans' Finest

New Orleans pedestrians are among the most aggressive on the face of the planet.  They challenge vehicles, as if daring the drivers to hit them.  Their sauntering, I-have-all-the-time-in-the world gait is infuriating.   And don't get me started on the bicyclists.  It's a literal miracle that more of them don't die on the mean streets of the Crescent City. 

Two of them almost did today.

I'm normally a pretty nice person, considerate of others, and willing to wait my turn in most situations (unless it involves major blood loss, or something in that vein).  I always defer to pedestrians when I'm supposed to -- in crosswalks and at major intersections where signs instruct me to yield to folk on foot.  (Well, almost always).  And I always slow to posted speed, or slower, in school zones.  Children are unpredictable and can dart past a crossing guard on a lark, not thinking about the consequences.

Adults should know better.

I was toodling down Prytania Street earlier, on my merry way to accomplish some stuff, and the light turned green for my direction as the car ahead of me approached the intersection at Napoleon.  Two oblivious young women -- twenty- or thirty-somethings -- stepped into the street to cross, causing the car in front of me to stomp on the brakes and swerve to avoid them.  But, even as they looked up to note that they were crossing against the light, did they return to the sidewalk?  Did they even stop? 

That would be a big negatory.

And they kept right on strolling!  One of them was even talking on a cell phone!  (There's a shocker, huh?)

Moogie must've been feeling a little peckish this afternoon because I slowed, and as I swerved around them, I laid on the horn.  That got their attention and they stopped long enough to allow me to pass, after they returned to Earth from their startled leaps into the air.

I didn't see the Police car on the other side of Napoleon. 

He woop-wooped his siren at me, and I briefly thought, well, hell.  I'm going to rot in the Orleans Parish pokey for terrorizing thoughtless pedestrians.  But, no.  This is New Orleans!

As I looked at him to see what he wanted me to do, he flashed me a big ol' grin and shot me a thumbs up out his open window.

Sometimes ya really gotta love the cops in this city.