You Average Urban American Intersection

As you wait at the corner to cross, the sun feels warm on your skin, but the breeze is cool and biting. Your eyes water. The smell of grease and tortillas is in the air as Mexican merchants ready their restaurants and bodegas for the coming day. A Mexican polka is approaching from behind while from ahead the wave from a subwoofer pressures my chest and eardrums. The windows rattle. A peculiar syncopation developes, catches my attention and then fades into my short term memory...