Goines On: Magic bubbles

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(That’s Sacré-Coeur Basilica in 2021,
out the Goineses‘ apartment window)

Walking along the crowded Rue Poteau toward Monoprix, Goines reflected on the way most Paris walkers and joggers and bikers and skateboarders navigated the city’s fast, busy streets. A biker comes from behind on sidewalks within centimeters of walkers, who might step to one side or the other at any moment, and along curbs beside cars and motorcycles and trucks and buses, which in Paris seem to go as fast as they possibly can without killing anyone or inviting a police intervention.
    Goines wondered whether Parisians lived under some illusion that they are enclosed in magic bubbles, protected from collision? They seemed so confident, so fearless...so oblivious. And neither Goines nor Mrs. Goines had seen anything that might suggest Parisians are not so protected, although there had been that one taxi left with its dented front end resting against the stone wall at the bottom of Rue Cortot where it intersects with Rue des Saules. But probably no one had been hurt by that collision. A brake failure would explain why the taxi was still there rather than driven away, with apparently only grill and bumper damage otherwise.
    The Goineses had also seen a young woman rush past them across a square and slip and fall heavily, with an audible thud. But she quickly got up, gathered her bag, and continued hurrying on. She might have exclaimed “Merde!” but they weren’t sure.
    And they had seen thousands of Paris pigeons venturing among sidewalk diners’ feet and into streets searching for crumbs of baguette or apple core or anything vaguely resembling food, but saw not one pigeon run over or stomped on.
    There had been the remains of one dead bird and one apparent chipmunk, however – but only one, of each.
    And dogs seemed to live inhabit bubbles too. The Goineses saw hundreds of Parisians with dogs on leashes – some of the leashes of the retractable variety that allow a dog to wander 5-7 meters away from the other end – but saw none run over, or even coming close to being run over. The closest awkward scene they witnessed involved a woman whose leash got wound around her legs when her dog was circling another dog trying to sniff its rear end.
    And they watched hundreds of young children walking along with a parent or guardian, seemingly forgotten about when the adult encountered a friend and engaged in often animated conversation. They witnessed no child step in front of a bicyclist or a bus, or even any child who seemed afraid of the traffic.
    Maybe there was something to that magic bubble protecting Parisians. And protecting the Goineses too while they were in town?

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