You’re not really my friend.
I know that’s not very charitable, especially because we’ve never actually spoken.
But I do think it’s fair considering you nearly killed, or at the very least seriously harmed, me and my daughters.
The thing that really irks me is that you don’t know I exist. In fact, you’ve never even laid eyes on me.
I would have thought a 5’10” very pregnant lady pushing a bright orange double-jogging stroller would be fairly visible in broad daylight.
I will be forever glad of the many hours I’ve spent walking (and jogging) in big cities around distracted drivers, because I looked even though you didn’t.
Instead, you were staring off to the left while making a right-hand turn at a green light. The speed limit was 50 and you did slow slightly for the turn, but you then proceeded to blow right through the crosswalk while chatting away on your cell-phone and turning the wheel with your free hand.
I wanted to do what my dad does, and reach out to smack your car as you whizzed past, so you’d at least realize what a close call you had, but a belly and a stroller were between me and your car.
And if I think about it, that makes it even worse because you would have hit them first.
I’m sure you didn’t mean any harm by being oblivious, but would you please cut it out? It took me three more blocks of walking for my heart rate to return to normal.