It's Beverly Hills, about noon, at a crosswalk on Canon Drive (a half block south of Little Santa Monica). There's a youngish fellow, say around 30, who is straightening out his open-collar shirt and suit jacket. He has the kind of look that's telling the world he's very hot stuff - y'know an entry-level agent type. He stops at the curb of the crosswalk, lifts up his leg, and pushes the walk signal with the bottom of his shoe. That's right, folks, his shoe. He then crosses the street, still straightening out his jacket.
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