Hug Panic

You round the corner and find yourself face to face with an Uber stopped in the middle of the crosswalk. You can't get through. What's going on? you wonder. What is it about that Uber that feels like a lumberjack stepping onto a carpet?

A moment later you see why the Uber is standing still in the middle of the street: a boy is hugging the passenger, who has half her body hanging out the window. It's a farewell. Surely they must be a couple, you think, he is staying in the neighborhood and she is flying to another country. Cars are waiting, but nobody honks because the scene is too sweet.

The Uber driver is leaning on the steering wheel, watching the lovers, until someone knocks on the window. The driver rolls it down. A woman leans into the car and then she and the driver melt into an embrace. Maybe, you think, she forgot to say goodbye to her husband before leaving for work that morning. Or maybe she is another passenger, someone who happened to arrive early for an appointment. Another hug.

On that same street, a little girl is walking beside her father. They are both smiling as they watch those hugs, hand in hand along the sidewalk. The girl trips on a broken paving stone, but just before she falls, her father catches her in midair. Naturally, after the scare, father and daughter hug each other.

So many hugs! you think. And you look around. There is a traffic light with both little figures lit up at once, the red one and the green one. And you don't know what to do. What's going on? The Uber in the middle of the sidewalk. The deranged traffic light. The only thing missing is for the little figures to hug each other too.

Then a kind of stage fright comes over you. You start looking for trees or lampposts to hug, but there are none. Only this traffic light with its little figures hugging each other. There are no lampposts, you say, opening your arms as wide as they will go, looking around. Night is falling and there are no lampposts.