sitting in heavy traffic one day, 4-way stop radio on, listening to the DJ describe the excitement of broadcasting live from a south side ******* between songs giggly ****** screech in high pitched dog whistle voices trying to entice me into meeting wild red heads georgous brunettes, ***** blondes yellow, then red, then slowly traffic moves on continuing the maze blockades block, jackhammers tear up half the street, change lanes the heat of asphalt, a constant barrage of noise straining, amplifying I turn a ***** off in mid-squeal looking around I realize I had arrived this was the world of grown-ups I so desperately longed for in my youth? no bat mizvah, no tribal rite of passage but if I'm lucky I'll make that green light