Got off my bus this morning, with coffee and the cold on my mind. I was crossing the circle at the train station, and another man was in front of me. I noticed his grey Chucks, since the only other grey ones I have seen have been on my own feet. He began crossing through the crosswalk, when a BMW sped around the turn, looking the other way. I froze, and the other man froze, luckily. The car came 3-4 feet from hitting him.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” said the pedestrian.
“Hey, nice language, Buddy,” the asshole driver repeated, “Nice language, Buddy.”
Because, you know. The work FUCK is worse than almost breaking someone’s legs in the morning because you’re not looking where you’re driving at the same time that you are speeding. Yeah.
I forgot all about it. But last week was the five year anniversary of us going car-free, the day we handed a man our keys and $6,600 (yeah, we lost money selling it). I don’t miss it, but I’m not a happy car-owner, either. I don’t even like to be in them when I can help it.