In November 1989 I was walking home from work on a sidewalk along Foster City Drive. It was cool, nice walking weather. I was a young tall white guy, clean shaven, wearing my plaid lumberjack jacket and doing a good pace. I wore a backpack. The police pulled to the side of the road ahead of me, came out, and waited for me to walk up to them.
"Sir, could we see your driver's license?" I noted his tag read Michael O'Malley.
I wasn't sure why I needed a driver's license to walk on the sidewalk. Wasn't sure what would happen to me if I didn't have one. But as it happens I did. "Yes! I have one of those! Here you are."
He looked at it. Called it into the station for verification.
"What are you doing?" the policeman asked me.
"Walking home from work. I work at Oracle as a software developer," I pointed, "it's down on the other side of I-92."
"Do you have a car?"
"No. I've always liked walking."
"Do you always take the same route?"
"No, I try to vary it some. There's three routes I can take. I try to alternate."
"Do you walk under bridges?"
I thought about it a second. "Yes, every route from here to there has a bridge, and the sidewalks go under the bridge in every case."
"There are sometimes homeless people under the bridges."
"Really? I don't think I've ever seen one."
"Could we check the contents of your backpack?"
I shrugged off my backpack, gave it to him. "I stopped by the supermarket on the way home, and bought a soup ladle," I said, as the policeman examined my plastic soup ladle. "I was thinking of making soup," I offered. "I've got nail clippers in there too."
"We've had reports of someone of your description walking on the sidewalks of Foster City."
I considered this. "Yep! That would be me!"
The policeman rooted through my backpack some, then handed it back to me. "You should get a car," said the policeman. "It will be raining soon."
"That's OK, I do have an umbrella!" I said cheerfully.
The policeman looked a bit unhappy with this, but went back in his car and left me be.
I went home and sat on the couch and thought about it. I wondered if I should get a jogging suit for walking home from work so I'd look more normal. No probably wouldn't work because I'm clearly walking not jogging.
My housemate came in. "You're very odd, sitting on a couch watching an off TV," he said. He turned the TV on. That was distracting. I had to go in my room and sit on the bed to think.
As it happens, I did get a car a few months later. And it was a good thing. It turns out women were only willing to date me once I had a car.