Walking to my car this morning I went up to the crosswalk, saw that there were no cars at the intersection yet and began crossing. A car approached just as I was about to cross it's lane, but it kept going and stopped in the middle of the walk and past the stop line. I ended up face to face with the driver. She was obviously some kind of state worker. The window was down. She looked at me, suprised.
"Thanks for stopping!" I said.
"Well stay out of the damn strEET!" she retorted.
"I was on the crosswalk!!" I squealed.
She sped off, but I'll never forget that car.
I replayed the situation over and over in my mind. In each scenario I thought of more brazen ways to express my anger. Keying the car as I walked around it, kicking the back tail lights out, throwing a gooey smoothie at her back windsheild, writing her liscense plate down and reporting her as a wreckless driver to the police, I could have done any of these things. But I just got in my car, passed her later down the block and went on to work feeling defeated. Not knowing if she knew what she did was wrong is what really gets me. I mean, she has to know she was totally wrong first for not stopping before the stop sign, and second for not letting me cross, because I was already crossing before she even got to the intersection! Mostly, I feel defeated because I let the whole thing get under my skin. I wonder what she told her gaggle of cross stitch & needle point office friends at the coffee pot this morning.
Later.
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