Walking down east Canal Street I hear a commotion on the other side of the street. First, a kind of rhythmic shrieking reaches my ears – a word or phrase being repeated, only screamed, either angrily or playfully. Next I see a young man in a do-rag and white t-shirt sprinting down the sidewalk. At first these two data don’t coalesce into a coherent interpretation, and in my partial-attentiveness to the scene I plug in a variety of scenarios, none of which seems to fit. Then more data arrives: trailing behind the young man are a group of men of various ages and styles of dress, all shouting something. Finally, bringing up the rear, is the source of the rhythmic shrieking: an older Chinese woman, also running, who has apparently been robbed. Other people on the street have stopped to watch this spectacle, some of whom half-heartedly join in the pursuit. Someone flags down a passing cop car traveling in the opposite direction, which executes a u-turn and takes off after the horde. The surrounding street corners are now filled with clusters of curious observers, some of whom are filming the aftermath on their mobile phones. Will the criminal be captured and brought to justice? Will the poor woman get her phone or purse back? I shrug and head down into the subway.