The construction down at Atlantic Yards by the new stadium has the roads all screwed up, and crossing the street becomes an exercise in faith and recklessness.
When the guy turning left across traffic screeches to a halt only inches from the crosswalk, the two women behind me and I give him a look and continue on our way while he idles impatiently.
"I guess he forgot we had the light," the woman behind me mutters to her friend. "I wonder, does he really want to kill somebody today?"
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