[Only in Beijing] Crosstown Traffic[仅在北京] 穿越都市的交通

When two people cross each other while walking, sometimes there is an awkward moment when neither person knows where the other will go. Should each person stick to their right, and avoid a collision in that manner? Or should each person keep walking straight, playing a silent game of chicken, until one shifts awkwardly to let the other pass? I ran into this problem, but on my electric bike with a car bearing down on me — a sort of vehicular chicken.
Okay, I admit it. That whole opening was an excuse to write the phrase “vehicular chicken.” Nonetheless, it happened today as I was riding my bike back from class. I came to an intersection and stopped for the red light.
This was the first confusing thing, because the next moment, a man in a bulbous, lime green car from the 1990s zoomed around the corner, trying to make a right turn on red. But he immediately slammed on his brakes, expecting I would, as so many people do here, completely ignore the no-walk signal and putter across on my electric bike.
He glared at me, a mixture of anger and confusion on his face. Why didn’t I just blow through the red light? The stare was a signal. Whether or not I was planning on going through the red light before, I had to now. After all, he’d already stopped for me.
Succumbing to the inertia of this twisted logic, I obliged by twisting my wrist and gunning the accelerator. But I didn’t move; the day was cold, and my bike had stalled.
The man’s face changed from confusion to astonishment. All pedestrians are pests, doubly so for those who ride electric bikes. Those riders dash in and out of lanes, perpetually unsure whether to think of their vehicles as sickly cars and drive in the real street, or as monstrous bikes that belong to terrorizing bike lanes. But this was something unheard of. Not only had I waited for the light, the man actually gave me the right of way — and I still wouldn’t move!
Of course, unbeknownst to him, I was not so noble at heart, but my bike wouldn’t move. As such, he slowly inched forwards, his eyebrows crossed in confusion, his gaze never moving from me as he swung a right turn into the bus lane to avoid traffic.
His confusion reminded me that a system of rules can be stable in two ways: One, if everyone knows the rules and follows them; and two, if everyone knows the rules and knows nobody will follow them. In a land of blown red lights, who was I to sit and wait, and not rush towards the glorious traffic-related Valhalla that so many electric bikers had scooted towards since time out of mind?
As I crossed with the green light, I pondered the situation thoughtfully as I reflexively dodged a cab that pulled a wild U-turn out of nowhere, nearly leveling several passersby.

当两个人在十字路口碰到时，有时候会出现一种尴尬的场景，谁也不知道对方接下来要走的方向。遇到这种情况，是不是每个人都应该坚持向自己的右侧走，以这种方式来避免撞到对方呢？或者每个人还是应该继续笔直往前走，直到最终撞到，然后就像扮演一场沉默的老鹰捉小鸡的游戏似的，相互躲闪，直至其中的一位尴尬地让开，以方便对方过去呢？我就碰到过这个问题，当时一辆小汽车冲向我，而我正骑在电动自行车上—姑且就称作“车辆间的老鹰捉小鸡”吧！

好的，我承认。文章的开头部分就是为我写“车辆间的老鹰捉小鸡”这一事件作的铺垫。尽管如此，它确实发生了，就在我刚下课骑着自行车回家的时候。当时我来到一个十字路口，看到前面的红灯就停了下来。

这的确令人困惑，因为接下来的一刻，一个男人开着一辆90年代类似于球根状的老式灰绿色小汽车猛的转过弯来，试图在红灯时右转。但是他突然看见了停在原地的我，于是立即踩住他的刹车，他以为我会像很多人一样完全忽视红灯禁行的信号，直接冲过去的。

他对我怒目而视，脸上满是气愤和困惑。为什么我没有冲过红灯去？他的眼神表露无疑。不管我之前是否打算冲过红灯，而我现在好像必须要这样做了。毕竟，他已经为我停了下来。

屈从于这种扭曲的逻辑惯性，我本能地转动手柄，准备加大电力。但我没有动，天很冷，我的电动车也停滞不前。

这个男人脸上的表情从困惑到震惊。在他看来，所有的行人都如同害虫，特别是那些骑电动自行车的加倍令人生厌。他们常常在车道间随意穿行，永远让人搞不清究竟他们的交通工具算是一种有问题的小汽车，从而行驶在正常的车道上呢；还是属于恐怖的自行车道上的一种怪异的自行车呢。尽管这些都是我自己的揣测。此时此刻我也的确是在等着信号灯的改变，而那个男人实际上也给了让我先行的暗示，但是我仍旧没有动。

当然，他不可能了解此时我的想法，我也不是那么崇高的人，但是我的电动车仍旧纹丝不动。与此同时，他开始将车慢慢地向前挪动，而他的眉宇间仍然充满着困惑，他的目光始终没有离开过我，直至他将车子右拐进公共汽车道内以避免碰撞。

他的困惑提醒了我，一套规则系统能够稳定地贯彻执行，只可能有两种方式：第一，每个人都了解规则，并且遵守它；或者第二种，每个人都了解规则，但是也知道没有人将遵守它。生活在现代都市的人，时常都可能碰到红灯，但是无论是谁，都要耐心地等待，而不是做一些冒险行为，就像很长时间以来绝大多数电动车经常横冲直闯的那样。

绿灯亮了，就在我一边骑过这个十字路口，一边还在思索、回味刚才那一幕的时候，不知从哪里冒出来的一辆出租车在我面前来个超级大拐弯，我本能地闪躲开了。咳，这些事都是可以反映、衡量一些人的道德水准啊。