COLUMN: Flirting with disaster

From Jamil Smith's "Invisible Man," Fall '96 From Jamil Smith's "Invisible Man," Fall '96A late-night walk home brings out irrationalFrom Jamil Smith's "Invisible Man," Fall '96A late-night walk home brings out irrationalfear of other city-dwellers.From Jamil Smith's "Invisible Man," Fall '96A late-night walk home brings out irrationalfear of other city-dwellers.Flirting With Disaster. Good movie. Reminded me of a roller coaster ride on acid. Wait, what am I saying? I have no idea what that would feel like. As I walk out of my friend's apartment building, here on 22nd-and-wherever-the-hell-I-am, I am not really thinking much about the film we just saw. My feet ache slightly from our walk from the Ritz Five, but I'm not worrying about them, either. The only thing on my mind is this long walk home I've got ahead of me. My friend gave me directions, so I should be OK, right? I think of getting a cab, but decide against it? why? because the 20 blocks I have to walk can't be that bad, even if it is after the witching hour. With the speed at which I walk, it shouldn't take me too long. I'll even run if I have to. I hope I don't, though? will I have to run? I cross a bridge over the freeway, my pace remaining steady. I look at the city skyline, wondering what the people in those few illuminated offices could possibly be doing. Random thoughts begin to pass through my head, about schoolwork and? well, I guess just schoolwork. As I come to the end of the bridge, I look down and begin to use a Sprite can as a soccer ball, looking for an imaginary goal. I find one in a tipped-over garbage container and kick the can in, to the delight of thousands of adoring fans, of course. who is that? I see someone with his head down walking toward me. I get tense and guard my wallet. I realize he seems a little hobbled. As he turns towards his stoop, I find it is an old man and I give him an unrequited hello. I really should wear my contacts all the time. I feel rather foolish even reacting the way I did. An old man. Stupid. can't be too careful? My neck tenses up a little bit as I cross a street. "A few more blocks to Walnut," I whisper to myself. A few more blocks. I should have gotten a cab. A car (a rather nice car) passes slowly by. I wonder what the occupants' problem is, but I see they're stopping at the light at the next corner. The car speeds off at the green, seemingly in disgust over what I had been thinking of it and its driver as they had passed me. A car. Just settle the hell down. You'll be home soon enough. hope so My friends always tell me that I'm too hypersensitive. I'll tell them about this walk home and shut them the hell up. They annoy me with that crap. I'm not hypersensitive. I'm not hypersensitive! what am I doing? I see a cab up at the next corner at the light? get it, fool. and decide to keep on going. I don't have much cash, anyway. Do cabs take credit cards? It doesn't matter anymore; the cab has pulled away from the light and is out of sight. I continue walking. I squint to see what was beyond the corner where the cab had been. It's a the underbelly of a bridge. oh joy! I feel my pace quicken and I immediately try to slow it down. I've always been told that if I do that, I'll look like an easy target. target I see a group of men across the street from me and catch the glance of one of them. I nod my head in acknowledgment and turn back around. My hands go into my pocket, sliding over my wallet and keys. I notice the overwhelming darkness of the whole situation. The garbage strewn under the bridge even seems to have a dark smell, if that's possible. Under the bridge, I see a homeless man sitting with his head down? don't ask me for change, please and his cup up for spare change, which has fallen out of his hand. The men across the street don't pay me any attention as I emerge from under the bridge. The acids in my stomach cease their tidal wave. I see a faint light at the end of the approaching corner, illuminating a street sign. Does it say "Walnut?" I try to look, but realize as I move closer that the light is coming from a gas station? oasis and I lose interest in the street sign. I go inside the empty mini-mart and decide to indulge myself with some fattening Hostess pie. I think to myself that it would be just my luck for this place to be robbed when I'm here after being so damn paranoid? cautious during this long walk. I really need to calm down. I pay for my items and leave the gas station. I realize that the sign said "Walnut" and I turn to walk up the street. After some time, I come to the long bridge that joins Center City with West Philly. I admire the midnight blue of the river, thinking that the only other times I really looked at it were when it so graciously received the Franklin Field goalposts. I see a stairwell leading down to the muddy shore? anyone there? and think about perhaps coming back to it -- during the day. I see a bridge in front of me with the painted words "UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA" on it and I sigh in relief. whew! Crossing under this bridge is certainly less nerve-wracking than the last one. I feel a brief invulnerability, but it doesn't last long. I think how funny it would be if something happened to me here after walking through some strange neighborhood for as long as I did. yeah, real funny I get onto Locust Walk as soon as I can and before I know it, I am at my front door, fumbling with my keys. I go up to my room and collapse. I'm home. for now I think about my walk -- the old man, the fancy car, the men under the bridge, the homeless man and the other invisible monsters I worried about. I think of how irrational I had been. irrational? Why had I been scared? I didn't know them Why had I been scared? they could've hurt you Why had I been scared? they could've taken your wallet Why had I been scared? they looked suspicious But why?