raybear | Believed he was lucky.

He doesn't usually jaywalk, not because of some sort of internal safety code or sense of propriety, but more because he's lazy. Dodging cars requires a certain amount of attention he can't spare early in the morning or late at night or in the afternoon when preoccupied with getting to lunch in a timely fashion.

He always looks both ways before stepping onto the asphalt, but looking is sometimes a misnomer because while his head may turn and his eyes are pointed in the direction, no visual input seems to make it into his brain. It only took once incident of him stepping out in front of a speeding car while looking at it to break his reliance on a childhood habit that no longer served him.

Today he noticed the person next to him look, then step out, so he took the extra spot of effort to pay attention. Sure enough all the cars were a block away and stopped at that light, leaving plenty of time to walk across with no rushing. He turn his head to the right as well, because even though it was one-way street, there was a traffic cop on that side who might yell at him. She didn't.

He noticed that the bank in front of him had no time/temperature sign out front so he began circling his gaze around to find the hour elsewhere. He glanced nervously again to make sure no cars were speeding towards him in the crosswalk, anxious to make the yellow light, even at the expense of his legs staying intact. Still no threat.

Something cold brushed against his thigh and then a trickling sensation creeped down his leg. He was so startled he didn't dare look down for fear of what was causing the sensation. Suddenly he heard tinkling and more objects slid down his leg -- he finally looked down to see glints of light roll off his boot and get kicked across the street. Apparently he had a hole in the front pocket of his pants that caused no problems for the first 9/10 of his commute, but in this moment he lost an entire pocketful of change, sans quarters which were carefully removed and stacked on the dresser the night before for future laundry loads. It couldn't have been more than two dollars and strangely he made no attempts to bend down and catch even a dime. Instead he just continued walking, as if nothing was happening to in his pants or to his recently freed money. If anyone figured out the cause of the minute forture in the crosswalk, they didn't learn it from his face.

Hours later at lunch he bought a sandwich that cost $4.16 and had to pay all in bills. He regretted not grabbing at least a few small coins.