While crossing the street at the cross-walk and on the walk signal downtown today a black Range Rover zoomed around the corner without even pretending to slow down or take notice of human life.
The balding suit inside, not nearly content with himself yet, had the audacity to then roll down his window and scream at me, “Hey, why don’t you look before crossing the street!?”
To which I actually hurled back, in a blink, “Why don’t you look before being an asshole!?”
Usually that’s the kind of thing I’d think but not actually retort out-loud, in the public street, in front of children and God. But today that guy messed with the wrong high-strung post-bar examinee. I’m still working out some residual anxiety and tension, apparently. And I’ll tell you what – if the bar exam didn’t kill then I’m sure as hell not letting an ass-hat in an ego-mobile take me down.
No comments:
Post a Comment