The car turns into the street just as she steps off the curb to cross.  It pauses, though, to allow her passage, and after two steps of walking, she switches to a lively trot, turns her head to the left as she gives the driver what she hopes is a charming, winsome smile, mouths the words “Thank you,” and adds the flourish of a jaunty thumbs-up followed by a peace sign.  She wants the driver to think she’s the best pedestrian this side of the Hudson River, hoping he’s not really thinking, “Yeah, yeah.  Just fucking cross the street, lady.”