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By Mike Palecek (about the author) Page 3 of 6 page(s)
Or die.
And so I keep going and, of course, I miss my MapQuest directions by one turn, but that is enough to put me smack-dab into rush hour traffic, then try to find a place to turn around in Monroeville [the shocks?], then I go past the immigrants' rights rally, and then I pass it again and again ... and again, and I am starting to get to know these people ... and finally pull over and ask this British guy and this Hispanic-looking woman for help who are very intent on finding a parking place and get to the rally, but they do find time to tell me where to go.
I find Hot Metal Street.
Turn right, miss my next turn, and I go up and up and up.
Pittsburgh is hilly. Did you know that? And the streets where I am are very tight.
I am panicking, as I do when I think I am lost in rush hour in a big city that I have never been in and I might die soon because I cannot find a fancy Irish bar.
My brakes feel squishy. Does that mean my brakes are going out? My clutch? Pittsburgh is the end of the line. I am dead. Oh, geezuz-god, my brakes are squishy. I will die.
I am again in the black neighborhood. In almost every city I visit I either miss my turn and go to the black neighborhood, or my reading is in the black neighborhood.
I like it here. I calm down. I wish I had some excuse to walk up to someone and listen to them talk about their day.
I ask directions once, from a guy walking down a hill.
... I almost make it.
I seek directions again, from a woman in front of what I would guess is a project. She is very kind, she turns and points, tells me to go to Josephine Street, then to 26th, down the hill, "you can't miss ..."
No, no, don't say that!
"It."
I later try to ask directions from a white young man walking intently down the narrow sidewalk.
www.mikepalecek.com
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