trader joe's seriously has 20 cashiers on duty at a time. and someone on staff to direct checkout traffic. it is crazy and efficient all at once. i'm a fan. i'm also a fan of cashier #9 in particular for taking a strange request from me into full-fledged ocd.
trader joe's is a mile from home, and i regularly walk there for groceries because a) i like that they sell organic stuff cheaper than all the other stores sell their non-organic stuff, and b) it seems far too easy to just walk out the door, cross the street, and go to the closer grocery store. i like to get a little more physical activity because, let's face it, everyone in my neighborhood wears a size 2 and it's quite intimidating. if i don't keep moving, i think i'm going to get deported.
the challenge is that, as everyone knows, when you carry something, it gets heavier with each step that you take. the second challenge is that j really likes their orange peach mango juice ... and those get especially heavy. for those reasons, i have to make sure groceries get packed such that i can manage to carry them without one arm getting more of a workout than the other (it's important to train muscles evenly ... both arms must get the same workout, lest one arm feel less loved). usually, i just stop by the door on the way out and double check how the cashier packed the groceries before starting the trek home.
when checking out during my last trip, though, i decided to preemptively ensure that the two bags were relatively balanced. so with a straight face, i informed cashier #9 that the two cartons of juice were having trouble getting along with each other. i then asked him if he could please separate them when bagging the groceries. cashier #9 not only smiled, but really went the extra mile. he also separated the two oranges, the two peppers, the two containers of broccoli, and the two boxes of j's cereal. he even separated the tofu from the chicken (which i secretly appreciated quite a bit - the tofu really doesn't get along with the chicken).
and that is why i love trader joe's.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
ms. fuzzy head update
well ... ms. fuzzy head, maybe you should have listened a little better to what people were trying to tell you when you were ostensibly looking for feedback. apparently the movie, miral, didn't do so well at the venice film festival ... and it looks like the release date is delayed.
http://farm.imdb.com/news/ni4853581/
mr. julian schnabel, my offer still stands.
http://farm.imdb.com/news/ni4853581/
mr. julian schnabel, my offer still stands.
Monday, October 11, 2010
stanley
for someone who doesn't really care about celebrities, i seem to be seeing an awful lot of them lately (okay, okay ... we did buy tickets to see steve carrell at the new yorker festival ... and yes, that was my choice, i admit it). yesterday, i was a mere foot away from stanley. you are probably wondering who stanley is. so did i for a very, very long time.
when watching movies like spiderman or iron man, i have had the frequent experience of various other people pointing at the screen at a random point during the movie, and shouting, "look, it's stanley! did you see stanley? that was stanley!" sometimes i've smiled and nodded. other times i've just said no. at one point, i finally asked who the heck stanley was. for any of you as clueless as i was, it turns out "stanley" was actually "stan lee". so you can see my confusion. ironically, yesterday, i pointed stan lee out to a crowd of his fans.
stan lee was in town and doing some signings. j, who actually knew who he was, decided (at 11.30 the night before) that he'd like to go. so, 5 hours later, i found myself in a culture i still don't fully understand for a few hours yesterday morning. j and i waited in line for hours, sandwiched between a very nice (but also very drunk) twenty-something from atlantic city and a group of equally nice and equally high twenty-somethings. then we got into the convention center where we were supposed to wait again after having received tickets to see stanley. fortunately, rather than following the hundreds of people who were forming a mob on the bottom floor of the convention center, i wandered around a bit, and stumbled on a line of about 5 people who were lined up outside the room that actually had a sign on it identifying it as the stan lee signing room. so i called j, and we enjoyed a quiet waiting time until the masses eventually must have followed someone to where we were. i met a very friendly high school junior who really, really liked comic books. really liked them. he kept talking about ... well ... i'm not really sure what. i picked out "the red hulk" and "first appearance of venom" ... but to be honest, i couldn't follow his conversation. he was retelling story lines from the comics he read, i guess, and asking everyone who their favorite characters were. i didn't really feel like i was in the proper company to report that i've never read a single comic book and i had no idea who they were talking about. i smiled and nodded when possible, and deflected any conversation that actually required me to possess some kind of knowledge of their culture with a joke about my little ponies. or halle berry.
at one point, i realized it was really silly that i had waited there empty handed while j waited to get something signed. after all of the waiting and effort involved, i figured i should probably also ask for a signature. so i was very thankful that my new little comic enthusiast friend and another new friend who was in front of me in line took good care of me and helped me obtain a spider man comic book while j held our place in line. and now, i have a spider man comic book signed by stan lee that will be on its way to my nephew in the morning.
and yes, ironically, i won where's waldo yesterday. when stan lee and his small entourage snuck by the masses to get settled into the conference room, i, of all people, was the one who pointed him out and said, "look, it's stanley." crazy.
when watching movies like spiderman or iron man, i have had the frequent experience of various other people pointing at the screen at a random point during the movie, and shouting, "look, it's stanley! did you see stanley? that was stanley!" sometimes i've smiled and nodded. other times i've just said no. at one point, i finally asked who the heck stanley was. for any of you as clueless as i was, it turns out "stanley" was actually "stan lee". so you can see my confusion. ironically, yesterday, i pointed stan lee out to a crowd of his fans.
stan lee was in town and doing some signings. j, who actually knew who he was, decided (at 11.30 the night before) that he'd like to go. so, 5 hours later, i found myself in a culture i still don't fully understand for a few hours yesterday morning. j and i waited in line for hours, sandwiched between a very nice (but also very drunk) twenty-something from atlantic city and a group of equally nice and equally high twenty-somethings. then we got into the convention center where we were supposed to wait again after having received tickets to see stanley. fortunately, rather than following the hundreds of people who were forming a mob on the bottom floor of the convention center, i wandered around a bit, and stumbled on a line of about 5 people who were lined up outside the room that actually had a sign on it identifying it as the stan lee signing room. so i called j, and we enjoyed a quiet waiting time until the masses eventually must have followed someone to where we were. i met a very friendly high school junior who really, really liked comic books. really liked them. he kept talking about ... well ... i'm not really sure what. i picked out "the red hulk" and "first appearance of venom" ... but to be honest, i couldn't follow his conversation. he was retelling story lines from the comics he read, i guess, and asking everyone who their favorite characters were. i didn't really feel like i was in the proper company to report that i've never read a single comic book and i had no idea who they were talking about. i smiled and nodded when possible, and deflected any conversation that actually required me to possess some kind of knowledge of their culture with a joke about my little ponies. or halle berry.
at one point, i realized it was really silly that i had waited there empty handed while j waited to get something signed. after all of the waiting and effort involved, i figured i should probably also ask for a signature. so i was very thankful that my new little comic enthusiast friend and another new friend who was in front of me in line took good care of me and helped me obtain a spider man comic book while j held our place in line. and now, i have a spider man comic book signed by stan lee that will be on its way to my nephew in the morning.
and yes, ironically, i won where's waldo yesterday. when stan lee and his small entourage snuck by the masses to get settled into the conference room, i, of all people, was the one who pointed him out and said, "look, it's stanley." crazy.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
update on traffic tim
so i have recently been informed that traffic tim's real name is john. i'm kind of devastated. i had gotten so used to calling him tim in my head when passing by. but it turns out he's a local celebrity:
http://www.nydailynews.com/ny_local/2009/11/03/2009-11-03_safety_first_then_classes.html
so, here's the next challenge: can anyone find the tabouli drooler? is she also so infamous as to have an official article already dedicated to her? in any case, until she is apprehended (and even if she isn't), i recommend taim instead.
http://www.nydailynews.com/ny_local/2009/11/03/2009-11-03_safety_first_then_classes.html
so, here's the next challenge: can anyone find the tabouli drooler? is she also so infamous as to have an official article already dedicated to her? in any case, until she is apprehended (and even if she isn't), i recommend taim instead.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
new toys
thanks to a few very kind family members, i recently had some graduation money to indulge some of my hobbies. and thanks to a slight delay between finishing the phd and starting a "real" job, i have also had time to indulge them.
NY Cakes acquired a respectable portion of my bounty. i don't even like cake (maybe it's the frosting - the massive amount of sugar tastes like diabetes in a bite ... but then again, sweet things aren't my own personal vice - i've got others). but i do like attempting to turn cakes into a pretty creation. or a strange one.
i have never had so much ambivalence about a store before. on one hand, the place is stocked well beyond even the best of the basics. it has gadgets for baking and decorating that i never knew existed. so at first, it was quite exciting to take in the impressive collection of tools and to pick out which new toys i couldn't live without - paints to color my own fondant, new pans, glorified modeling tools, etc.
but then, as i realized the vast amount of available shortcuts, some of the magic of decorating disappeared. you see, i went from doing everything the hard way (e.g., using very basic cake shapes and carefully carving them into the shapes i needed and assembling the shapes into 3D objects, always covering cakes by rather painfully squeezing out little drops of buttercream icing at a time, etc.) to obtaining tools to do much of it the easy way (e.g., collecting a variety of usefully shaped pans, stocking up on fondant, etc.). so now i feel like i'm cheating - that some of the challenge is gone. and then when i think about how many more shortcuts would be available if i were willing to drop a few hundred dollars or more into this little side hobby (and buy things like machines that would do the heavy labor of rolling out the fondant for me), i admit i get a little bit jealous of bakeries. suddenly the cake shows that champion their crazy confections are less impressive - yes, practice and skill are still very important, but it is so much easier for them. dear santa claus, i would like a bakery for Christmas so that i can make birthday cakes as needed. thanks.
so in any case, i have begun to sell out and am playing with my new toys. this past weekend, the project was a volcano birthday cake for my geology major sister. p.s. here's a tip for all you pyromaniacs out there - putting a bunch of birthday candles in very close proximity makes for a delightfully large flame.
NY Cakes acquired a respectable portion of my bounty. i don't even like cake (maybe it's the frosting - the massive amount of sugar tastes like diabetes in a bite ... but then again, sweet things aren't my own personal vice - i've got others). but i do like attempting to turn cakes into a pretty creation. or a strange one.
i have never had so much ambivalence about a store before. on one hand, the place is stocked well beyond even the best of the basics. it has gadgets for baking and decorating that i never knew existed. so at first, it was quite exciting to take in the impressive collection of tools and to pick out which new toys i couldn't live without - paints to color my own fondant, new pans, glorified modeling tools, etc.
but then, as i realized the vast amount of available shortcuts, some of the magic of decorating disappeared. you see, i went from doing everything the hard way (e.g., using very basic cake shapes and carefully carving them into the shapes i needed and assembling the shapes into 3D objects, always covering cakes by rather painfully squeezing out little drops of buttercream icing at a time, etc.) to obtaining tools to do much of it the easy way (e.g., collecting a variety of usefully shaped pans, stocking up on fondant, etc.). so now i feel like i'm cheating - that some of the challenge is gone. and then when i think about how many more shortcuts would be available if i were willing to drop a few hundred dollars or more into this little side hobby (and buy things like machines that would do the heavy labor of rolling out the fondant for me), i admit i get a little bit jealous of bakeries. suddenly the cake shows that champion their crazy confections are less impressive - yes, practice and skill are still very important, but it is so much easier for them. dear santa claus, i would like a bakery for Christmas so that i can make birthday cakes as needed. thanks.
so in any case, i have begun to sell out and am playing with my new toys. this past weekend, the project was a volcano birthday cake for my geology major sister. p.s. here's a tip for all you pyromaniacs out there - putting a bunch of birthday candles in very close proximity makes for a delightfully large flame.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
self checkout
when J and i were deciding what to do and where to go when we finally finished school, our choices boiled down to NYC and LA. on one hand, the thought of becoming a california girl had been very enticing - a perpetual tan, the southern california coastline, eternal sunshine, and some really great friends in the area were exceedingly difficult to turn down. but deep down, i kind of always knew that as much as i might really, really like the idea of being laidback and carefree (and as much as i like to tell myself that if the world weren't so demanding, i would be), the reality is that NYC does serve my personality better (not that this was the reason for the move - the decision was primarily job- and family-related). but personality-wise, i need efficiency almost as much as i need air. here, most everything i could possibly need (and just about anything that i could never imagine needing) is a short walk away. and service is generally quite efficient.
take this morning, for example. i ran a couple errands in preparation for yet another trip (because no, J and i cannot seem to stay in the same place for more than a week or two at a time this whole summer ... hence, i hardly feel like i live in NY at all). first, i walked to Bagel Bob's to carry on what has quickly become a tradition for us: exporting fresh, yummy NY bagels to our hosts when we leave the city. despite a rush hour line from the door to the counter, i was in and out in a matter of minutes. so i proceeded to CVS to get J some gatorade for the trip (personally, i'm deciding between ginger ale and sangria (for prevention of motion sickness)).
CVS is where my morning got really interesting. i was second in a line of 3 people (with one person checking out at the counter), and i was even managing to be patient while waiting my turn (because, let's face it, the Bagel Bob efficiency was unfortunately lacking). i was thinking about the bagels - they were so warm and fresh and i wished i could have given them to our hosts while they were still right out of the oven. the fifty-something woman in front of me started behaving a little erratically (we'll call her Erratica). Erratica began mumbling a few words here and there and making partial movements as though she were going to reach for something or walk somewhere, but suddenly changed her mind and stopped mid-movement. she then left the line twice - once to wander off and grab some nutritional shakes and once to put them back. and okay, i admit i may have gotten slightly annoyed when Erratica left the line because i didn't want to have to wait any longer if the cashier became free while she was gone ... but the annoyance was fleeting because i decided i would go ahead of her if she didn't make it back in time.
as it turned out, Erratica did manage to make it back in time AND i went ahead of her. the cashier dealing with the customer at the counter must have been having some trouble. so another cashier, standing by the self checkout counter, stepped up and said "next." silly me, i thought Erratica would proceed with her purchases, and i would wait for the next available cashier. but Erratica responded as though she feared for her life. she quickly and loudly protested, "no!" she paused for effect, and only continued when the cashiers exchanged startled expressions. "i do not wish to go there! i do not wish to use those machines! i am waiting in line - " i didn't quite make out the rest of the tirade (something about a human?) because although i was amused by the event, i had other errands on my list. so my ears were primed to pick up cashier #2's response: "okay, that's fine. who is next in line?" and i proceeded to the self checkout (that incidentally, wasn't self checkout - the cashier scanned the gatorade, took my money, and handed me my receipt ... so i can only conclude there must be something ominous about the machines themselves). i completed my purchase. as i took my receipt and cashier #2 uttered, "next," it was deja vu.
Erratica protested again, "no! i do NOT wish to use those machines!" she was oblivious to the cashiers' assurances that they were talking to the person behind her. Erratica continued, "i do NOT wish to use those machines! i wish to wait in this line (for a human being?)! where is the manager? is there a manager? i want to talk to a manager!"
i don't know what happened next because my Type A triumphed over my curiosity this time and i walked out the door. i can only hope those evil cashiers didn't drag that woman, flailing and screaming, to the self checkout machines, scan her retinas instead of the bar codes, gag her with a receipt, and stuff her into a plastic bag.
(side note: many people erroneously believe Type A personality is associated with cardiovascular problems. but Type A is actually a big collection of traits that includes not only preference for efficiency, being driven, perfectionistic, etc. (the traits that perhaps are typically thought to make up Type A personality) but also things like hostility and cynicism. we've known since the 70s that it is only hostility/cynicism portion of type A that is associated with cardiovascular problems (okay, well, someone has known since the 70s - i didn't exactly exist then, but the data have been around that long). so no worries, NYC will not be giving me a heart attack anytime soon.)
take this morning, for example. i ran a couple errands in preparation for yet another trip (because no, J and i cannot seem to stay in the same place for more than a week or two at a time this whole summer ... hence, i hardly feel like i live in NY at all). first, i walked to Bagel Bob's to carry on what has quickly become a tradition for us: exporting fresh, yummy NY bagels to our hosts when we leave the city. despite a rush hour line from the door to the counter, i was in and out in a matter of minutes. so i proceeded to CVS to get J some gatorade for the trip (personally, i'm deciding between ginger ale and sangria (for prevention of motion sickness)).
CVS is where my morning got really interesting. i was second in a line of 3 people (with one person checking out at the counter), and i was even managing to be patient while waiting my turn (because, let's face it, the Bagel Bob efficiency was unfortunately lacking). i was thinking about the bagels - they were so warm and fresh and i wished i could have given them to our hosts while they were still right out of the oven. the fifty-something woman in front of me started behaving a little erratically (we'll call her Erratica). Erratica began mumbling a few words here and there and making partial movements as though she were going to reach for something or walk somewhere, but suddenly changed her mind and stopped mid-movement. she then left the line twice - once to wander off and grab some nutritional shakes and once to put them back. and okay, i admit i may have gotten slightly annoyed when Erratica left the line because i didn't want to have to wait any longer if the cashier became free while she was gone ... but the annoyance was fleeting because i decided i would go ahead of her if she didn't make it back in time.
as it turned out, Erratica did manage to make it back in time AND i went ahead of her. the cashier dealing with the customer at the counter must have been having some trouble. so another cashier, standing by the self checkout counter, stepped up and said "next." silly me, i thought Erratica would proceed with her purchases, and i would wait for the next available cashier. but Erratica responded as though she feared for her life. she quickly and loudly protested, "no!" she paused for effect, and only continued when the cashiers exchanged startled expressions. "i do not wish to go there! i do not wish to use those machines! i am waiting in line - " i didn't quite make out the rest of the tirade (something about a human?) because although i was amused by the event, i had other errands on my list. so my ears were primed to pick up cashier #2's response: "okay, that's fine. who is next in line?" and i proceeded to the self checkout (that incidentally, wasn't self checkout - the cashier scanned the gatorade, took my money, and handed me my receipt ... so i can only conclude there must be something ominous about the machines themselves). i completed my purchase. as i took my receipt and cashier #2 uttered, "next," it was deja vu.
Erratica protested again, "no! i do NOT wish to use those machines!" she was oblivious to the cashiers' assurances that they were talking to the person behind her. Erratica continued, "i do NOT wish to use those machines! i wish to wait in this line (for a human being?)! where is the manager? is there a manager? i want to talk to a manager!"
i don't know what happened next because my Type A triumphed over my curiosity this time and i walked out the door. i can only hope those evil cashiers didn't drag that woman, flailing and screaming, to the self checkout machines, scan her retinas instead of the bar codes, gag her with a receipt, and stuff her into a plastic bag.
(side note: many people erroneously believe Type A personality is associated with cardiovascular problems. but Type A is actually a big collection of traits that includes not only preference for efficiency, being driven, perfectionistic, etc. (the traits that perhaps are typically thought to make up Type A personality) but also things like hostility and cynicism. we've known since the 70s that it is only hostility/cynicism portion of type A that is associated with cardiovascular problems (okay, well, someone has known since the 70s - i didn't exactly exist then, but the data have been around that long). so no worries, NYC will not be giving me a heart attack anytime soon.)
Sunday, August 15, 2010
red means go
it's hard to feel like i'm really a new yorker when i haven't lived there in nearly a month now. from defending the dissertation to visiting my family to visiting J's family, i was home for a mere half a day in the last few weeks. which of course leaves me with two choices, should i feel like writing today. 1. make something up. but i just promised you that you can trust everything i ever say because i'm an expert now. i'd hate to start of on the wrong foot by misleading you. 2. exploit older blog fodder until i return this coming week.
so today's topic is driving in the city. i'm sure you are all aware that different states have different driving laws. responsible citizens are apparently expected to investigate differences in state driving laws before crossing state borders. however, because i don't know that many responsible citizens who actually regularly indulge this expectation (probably because in the vast majority of cases, the laws aren't too different), i'l save you all some trouble in case you should decide to take a road trip to my fine city. from what i've observed, the laws within the city borders are drastically different than anywhere else i have driven. so today, i have prepared a little primer on interpreting traffic lights.
perhaps the most confusing aspect of driving in new york is figuring out what those pesky traffic lights are trying to tell you. people everywhere appear to disagree about whether a yellow light is a cue to suddenly slam one's foot down on the brake or the gas pedal. in the city, err on the side of the gas pedal. this is easy enough.
when you approach a clogged intersection, you may, at first, attempt to patiently wait your turn. when you find that you are sitting through cycle after cycle of changing lights and your vehicle has not moved more than the inch or few when you impatiently crept up on the bumper in front of you, you may begin to feel agitated. this is normal. it is merely a symptom of your lack of familiarity with city driving customs. after becoming agitated, you may soon catch on to the fact that the other drivers aren't playing by the rules - but this is only if you expected everyone to play by the same rules that you learned at home. specifically, that green means go and red means stop. i know it must sound painfully incongruent with everything you know about the world, but in the city, red means go and green means go if you can weasel your way into the moving traffic.
you see, when your light is green, the intersection will be full of street cholesterol (the cars that are perpendicular to yours, attempting to cross or turn onto your street). if you can maneuver your car into the gridlock, go ahead and do it. just inch your car closer and closer to the other side of the intersection, even if you get tangled up in the cross traffic. things sort themselves out. if you can't move during the green light, pass the time by honking your horn. but before you do, look around and try to guess how wealthy the neighborhood is. if the people on the sidewalks are well dressed and the buildings look fancy, you are probably going to encounter a "no honking" sign because the people who live here have not yet developed the immunity to noise pollution that has been cultivated in less affluent areas. you may be fined if you oppress them.
when the light turns yellow, drivers suddenly realize just how frustrated they are because the gridlock has prevented them from moving when they believed they were entitled to move. thus, yellow means accelerate further into the gridlock to ensure you don't get cheated again. so begin to accelerate on yellow, and then when the light is red, keep creeping toward the direction you want to go because now that you and all of your similarly directed friends have moved into the intersection on a yellow light, you are all blocking the cross traffic, and they are getting agitated. try to be considerate and keep moving out of their way during the red light.
wash, rinse, repeat.
after 4-5 cycles, what will emerge is a pattern in which the "go on green, stop on red" pattern has been completely reversed. this system works best when every driver plays by the appropriate nyc driving rules. the system will break down into chaos and cause delays for everyone if anyone attempts to selfishly drive by rules their own egocentric rules (e.g., braking on red).
so today's topic is driving in the city. i'm sure you are all aware that different states have different driving laws. responsible citizens are apparently expected to investigate differences in state driving laws before crossing state borders. however, because i don't know that many responsible citizens who actually regularly indulge this expectation (probably because in the vast majority of cases, the laws aren't too different), i'l save you all some trouble in case you should decide to take a road trip to my fine city. from what i've observed, the laws within the city borders are drastically different than anywhere else i have driven. so today, i have prepared a little primer on interpreting traffic lights.
perhaps the most confusing aspect of driving in new york is figuring out what those pesky traffic lights are trying to tell you. people everywhere appear to disagree about whether a yellow light is a cue to suddenly slam one's foot down on the brake or the gas pedal. in the city, err on the side of the gas pedal. this is easy enough.
when you approach a clogged intersection, you may, at first, attempt to patiently wait your turn. when you find that you are sitting through cycle after cycle of changing lights and your vehicle has not moved more than the inch or few when you impatiently crept up on the bumper in front of you, you may begin to feel agitated. this is normal. it is merely a symptom of your lack of familiarity with city driving customs. after becoming agitated, you may soon catch on to the fact that the other drivers aren't playing by the rules - but this is only if you expected everyone to play by the same rules that you learned at home. specifically, that green means go and red means stop. i know it must sound painfully incongruent with everything you know about the world, but in the city, red means go and green means go if you can weasel your way into the moving traffic.
you see, when your light is green, the intersection will be full of street cholesterol (the cars that are perpendicular to yours, attempting to cross or turn onto your street). if you can maneuver your car into the gridlock, go ahead and do it. just inch your car closer and closer to the other side of the intersection, even if you get tangled up in the cross traffic. things sort themselves out. if you can't move during the green light, pass the time by honking your horn. but before you do, look around and try to guess how wealthy the neighborhood is. if the people on the sidewalks are well dressed and the buildings look fancy, you are probably going to encounter a "no honking" sign because the people who live here have not yet developed the immunity to noise pollution that has been cultivated in less affluent areas. you may be fined if you oppress them.
when the light turns yellow, drivers suddenly realize just how frustrated they are because the gridlock has prevented them from moving when they believed they were entitled to move. thus, yellow means accelerate further into the gridlock to ensure you don't get cheated again. so begin to accelerate on yellow, and then when the light is red, keep creeping toward the direction you want to go because now that you and all of your similarly directed friends have moved into the intersection on a yellow light, you are all blocking the cross traffic, and they are getting agitated. try to be considerate and keep moving out of their way during the red light.
wash, rinse, repeat.
after 4-5 cycles, what will emerge is a pattern in which the "go on green, stop on red" pattern has been completely reversed. this system works best when every driver plays by the appropriate nyc driving rules. the system will break down into chaos and cause delays for everyone if anyone attempts to selfishly drive by rules their own egocentric rules (e.g., braking on red).
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