I live near a popular, pedestrian-friendly main street destination filled with shops and restaurants. Some weekends, while driving in my car and ferociously singing at the top of my lungs along with Boyz II Men or Paramore, I accidentally turn onto this mile long stretch of hell called Grand Avenue. I'm forced to play an on-going game of hide-and-seek, tag, and duck-duck-GREY DUCK with lollygaggers, shoppers, runners, coffee drinkers, and a bunch of chickens looking to get to the other side.
You see, crossing the street as a pedestrian is an art. And most people are not artists.
First, you have to wait for an opening. You're looking for a few seconds of car-free road in at least one direction. You're waiting for a pause in the action.
Secondly, you must be bold. You must step confidently into the street.
Thirdly, you must face down any oncoming cars with direct eye contact, almost daring them to hit you.
Lastly, you must progress across the road in a manner that is neither too fast (silly run-walk, you know I'm talking about you) nor too slow (get 'er done).
It takes a lot of practice and confidence, just like BOWING WHEN YOU'RE DONE PERFORMING A DANCE.
If you didn't draw the obvious parallels to dancesport, let me save you from the horrendous video footage you will acquire if you don't take these tips on how to end your dances in a graceful and efficient way:
- Listen for the music to fade out. Hear it? Finish what you're doing while slowing down the action.
- Be confident in your next movements. Don't rush anything.
- Figure out where you're going to bow (please let it be towards the audience and not to the center of the floor). Make eye contact with your partner. Lead, or be lead, in an underarm turn so you are standing side by side.
- Bow or curtsy. At the bottom of your action, say the words "purple hippopatomus" AND THEN stand up (any faster and you will look spastic).
- Exit stage left. Or right. Get off the damn floor.
And then remember how cute this was (she does a pretty good bow):
Two years ago: Crazy Bread, Part Deux, in which I am disappointed in bread.
Riot and Frolic 
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