Do Not Walk

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To the arrogant, red-haired bitch in a black & white checkered coat, near New Seasons: You strolled across MLK, ignoring the red “Do Not Walk” sign and 2 lanes of cars that had the green light. You walked in front of my moving car. I didn’t see you until you were right in front of me. Why? Because I had a green light and was turning right, looking at and yielding to the pedestrians crossing Rosa Parks Way. You know, the ones who had the “Walk” sign? You had the gall to glare and gesture to me, as though I was in your way. My little black Hyundai, together with several thousand pounds of moving steel in cars behind me in a chain reaction could have slammed into one another. You? With your self-absorbed, hipster, too-cool-for-school attitude prancing across the sidewalk would have been flattened, the hand with the finger you raised to me flapping on the ground.
I drive conservatively staying at the speed limit, and I don’t tailgate, or talk or text while driving. And I watch out for pedestrians, even stupid ones. I’m only sorry that my 51 year old reflexes were too quick. Instead of instinctually braking for you I wish my foot had slammed the gas pedal. Your hair would have been just one of many red things splayed across my car and the street.

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