Public Square at 9 a.m. is like a high-school hallway right before the morning bell rings. Crowds of bodies rush down the sidewalk in unison, like a wave, and eyes stare in blank anticipation of that first-period World History lecture (or an interminable 9:15 staff meeting). People walk shoulder-to-shoulder, clutching briefcases or tote bags. The loners trudge in the opposite direction, their neckties or scarves blowing in the wind. An occasional blonde bounds through the crosswalk with a smile on her face, swinging her attaché case in time to the music on her Walkman. Probably was a cheerleader.