Petersburgian Case File #3: Going Home [without my burden]

Newton, or one of those smart science people they forced me to learn about in high school to little avail, said that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. I must have been absent for that lecture as I walked a friend home last night not really contemplating that I would then have to walk myself back to my house after doing so. It is one of those walks that seems perfectly fine to make, when you don't think about the fact that the minute you are done you are going to have to make it again in the opposite direction. So there I was, walking the streets of Petersburg near midnight, bundled up in my gray Ecko hoodie* - very tasteful - hood on my head to protect myself from the cold, slight slouching of the back to keep away the wind. Now they say St. Petersburg is as safe or unsafe as any other big city but of course when one is out of their element they feel a little less comfortable, a little less safe, a little more hyper-aware of their surroundings. And so I shuffled along trying to walk at a decently quick pace, gray Ecko hoodie over my head, a bottle of water I had recently bought in a cafe in my pocket. And as I turned onto a new, not particularly well lit street, and found myself walking about 30 ft behind somebody else - another male, probably mid-20s. Assessing the situation as best I could I tried to maintain the distance between us. And then he turned around to look at me. And then he turned around to look at me again. And then he turned around to look at me a third time. And as I started slowing down, anticipating he would do likewise, and started thinking about how I could run across the 3 lanes of traffic to the other side of the street if necessary he began to...speed up a little and I realized that in my gray Ecko hoodie (various inane writings scrawled over it - very tasteful), and my slouch against the wind, and the unidentifiable bottle in my pocket, he wanted to get away from me as much, if not more, than I wanted to get away from him. To quote a popular television series, in that moment I realized that I had become the one who knocks. And just like it did for our dear friend Mr. White it felt absolutely wonderful. Maybe next time I go out at night I'll couple that hoodie with some baggy sweatpants and a few clanking chains, start grumbling to myself about Trotsky whenever I pass anyone by. No more half-measures.

*Its warm and its relatively cheap, and its made of cotton, damn it! Don't judge me.