I had jogged up to the intersection, but not in time to hit the crosswalk button. Not to worry, I thought, since a check in all four street directions (even though one of the streets is one-way, I still look) told me that there was only one vehicle at the intersection and it didn’t have it’s turn signal on. So I crossed with the green…
…and almost got ran over. I have to curse my slow brain, because I’d finished crossing the street before I realized that I’d just been scolded! “Geez, it doesn’t say walk!” The lady in the white, toy-sized SUV (“It’s so small, you would almost think it’s fuel-efficient!”) had rolled down her window and turned into the lane in front of me so she could give me what-for about my street-crossing decision? What the ever-loving hell? So, what, I was supposed to wait another three minutes at an empty intersection for my chance to see the white stick figure instead of the red hand on the sign? Good grief, lady. Let me restate for the record that I was crossing with the light, and after checking for possible hazards!
See, if I was the quick and clever sort, I’d have shouted back, “Whatever, MOM!” Grrrr. No turn signal and she turns into the far lane of the three available? And I’m the irresponsible one here?
Anyway. Speaking of utter dorkwads, how about this frequently-seen specimen among the public transit set: The Seat Martyr. You know the guy. He’s the one who insists on standing, even when there are seats available. Now, I sometimes remain standing when I’ve only got a short trip, or if the available seat isn’t particularly appealing for one reason or another. But this morning I saw a guy standing in the raised portion of a low-floor MAX train when there were two available seats next to not-unappealing women. So this schmuck’s not only being stupid, but also an unneccessary obstruction since anyone who wants to get off the train has to go around him… no mean feat when he insists on acting as if he’s the only one on the train. Even when an entire two-seat bench opened up, he remained standing.
Gah. I don’t know about you, but the only thing I can figure is that this guy likes feeling higher-up than everyone else. Or maybe I’m just reading things into his behaviour and body language. I don’t know.
Ah well. Now I’m safely ensconced at work, where I don’t have to deal with that sort of thing. (Yeah, right…)
