However what I don't want are pedestrians. I know that I am one everyday at lunch and so forth, but I and those like me are not the one I despise. It is the "full of themselves jaywalkers who know they are crossing and stopping traffic and getting a high off it. They take there time and relax to a strut knowing that they have caused a morning jam. They puff there chest, slow there walk and smirk to my windshield. Little do they know, I am a menace and have a record of hitting pedestrians.
It started in driver’s education. Where I grew up in rural Michigan, drivers’ education was during the summer. Everyone assembled into one of the classrooms at the elementary and took an exam. If you scored higher that 85% you got to opt out of the class portion of the course and went right to driving. I was not in on the game plan and did not study. I got 84%.
Once the class was done we all were sent out on the road in a woody. Yes, our student driver car was an old station wagon with fake wood paneling on the side. It screamed "nerd". And the giant lighted taxi-cab-like sign that read STUDENT DRIVER did not help much either.
Parallel parking was a breeze, but not for the other two drivers in my car. The worst exercise was performed by the instructor mid-navigation on Interstate-75. The instructor would cover the rear view mirror and inquire..."What is behind you right now?" I could care less, but would state what was last there...thinking however, shouldn't I be more concerned with what is in front of me at this point.
Everything was fine till I come to an intersection in the busy metropolis of Bay City, Michigan (you would be on the floor laughing now if you have ever been). None the less, this should have been an easy task, if it weren't for an entitled pedestrian who decided that we was going to take her time to get across the crosswalk. Her sign yelled "Don't Walk", mine screamed GREEN=GO! I inched forward to test her authority. She stopped looked up and smiled....more like a smirk... she continued to take her time. I needed to hurry her up a bit; I inched forward again...this time clipping her gently. She stared at the windshield as if she was shot... I had to get out and apologize.
It has haunted me. What gave her so much power to break the rules? Her "walker" was barely dented. I know she could move so much more quickly than that, she was so smug, her and her... curved back and blue hair...please! She was just like these DC jay walkers... just asking to be hit.
I was given a key chain by my instructor after the completion of Drivers Education. It reads.
So many pedestrians, so little time.
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