Having concluded my afternoon sojourn from my office to the local Walgreens (to pick up a tall, frosty can of Red Bull), I walked to the curb to wait for the light to change so I could cross the street. (It's a poor corner for jaywalking, given that the street recently changed from one-way to two-way, and that drivers in downtown Miami are — generally speaking — insane.) A rather shabbily dressed young black man was standing in front of me, a couple of feet into the street, looking back toward me, his single remaining tooth hooked over his lower lip, deep consternation on his brow.

A middle-aged Latin woman walked up to the curb beside me, a couple of feet to my left, also holding a plastic shopping bag. The young man turned toward her and began to glower, then snapped into life.

"Follow the leader." he said to the woman, who jumped almost as much as I did. He raised his voice. "Follow the leader!" Pointing at the woman with an almost religious mien he started to shout. "Follow! Follow! Follow the leader!"

Quite understandably, she looked concerned at this order. "¿Que?" The man leaned forward, although still a few feet away from us, and his eyes grew wide. "Follow! The!" — without taking his eyes off her his arm swung to the left and jabbed with authority at me — "Leader!" He was nearly screaming. "Follow the leader!"

The now terrified woman looked at me, then said in a heavy accent "I do not understand what he wants. Please, please tell him that." I kept my eyes on the young man, who was beginning to gesticulate wildly in obvious frustration, waving his hands over his head. It seemed clear to me: at the urging of his madness he needed her to get in line behind me at the curb. Why, though, I couldn't say.

"Follow the leader, follow the leader, follow the leader, follow the leader, follow, follow! FOLLOW!"

At the final outburst the woman let out a squeal and ran swiftly down the sidewalk to the safety of the Radio Shack. The young man looked at me, then sighed, shook his head, and continued north on Miami Avenue.

After he passed I turned in time to see the walk signal come on, and started across the street. As I crossed, I looked back over my shoulder at a line of pedestrians dutifully following me to the far shore.

Hmm, I mused. Perhaps this guy is on to something.