When life's too fast, I like to circle parking lots, leaving invisible loops, oblongs, figure eights in the asphalt. Today, I tried a tram, told the attendant I didn't know where I'd parked, just wanted to ride, move without moving, waste time. This flustered her sense of propriety, my lack of direction. She pointed out lightpost placards to help me find my way. What if I'm not looking? What if I don't need to know what's next?