Dear Jackholes Who Just Walked In Front Of My Car,
I know you’ve got the day off and you haven’t seen sun since sometime in the Bush administration. I know you’ve been stuck at home, watching Maury, stuffing your face full of cheez products. Haven’t we all? I know that with this Greenline thing you’re all excited that you have a flat place to walk in town. Because with this being the Delta region and all, flat places to walk are scarce as hen’s teeth.
But listen, and listen well…
THE CROSSWALK IS NOT MADE OF KRYPTONITE.
If you decide that you want to cross High Point while I’m in my little car, trying to get the last of the good ribeyes from Mr. Shirley’s before everyone gets off work and all that’s left are the grandma cuts, you better be damn sure you’re prepared for me to run your ass over. Because while my car has brakes, and they’re good–I just had them replaced not too long ago–they take a second or two to work. So let me suggest that from now on, when you see cars already at the crosswalk, YOU REFRAIN FROM WALKING INTO ME. Being a pedestrian does not make you Jack Harkness. Or that dude Bruce Willis played in that movie with Samuel Jackson. If I were to hit you at a reasonable rate of speed? I’D WIN THE GAME.
And, look, I know I’m in a car and you’re not. And I know it gets a little confusing who goes first. So let me lay it out for you. If I’m there first, I go. Car or no car. Bike or no bike. Okay. It’s that easy.
And so this afternoon, when you get home and you sit down to your blog to bitch about that dumbass in the Altima who just about mowed you down, I GOT HERE FIRST!