I can’t count the times I have crossed 14th St traffic, risking life and limb, to avoid the dreaded street petitioner. Our brains have come to engage the flight or fight complex as soon as they recognize the subtle patterns of these highly embarrassing engagements. The messenger bag wielders stand still, feet spread apart, eyes fixed on your downcast face, a smile on their lips, one hand gripping a clipboard, while the other one waves to you. They greet you, “Do you care about the environment?”, or “Do you have a minute for gay marriage?” things that you can’t answer negatively lest you risk ruining your carefully crafted eco-friendly or liberal image. The perfect trap. All you can do is breathe a little prayer for the asshole anti-social image that New York has imparted on its citizens as you rush by mumbling something about being late gripping my beach towel to your chest. Just one more social encounter avoided.
