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Casey/Male/31-35. Lives in United States/California/San Francisco/The Mission, speaks English and  . Spends 80% of daytime online. Uses a Faster (1M+) connection.
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United States, California, San Francisco, The Mission, English, Spanish, Casey, Male, 31-35.

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Monday, February 26, 2007

Karma.

Twice this past week as a pedestrian, I've had altercations with motor vehicles. I'm hoping these things don't run in threes.

The first was out the Richmond, when a driver made deliberate eye contact with me as The Boyfriend and I were crossing the street. I proceeded to cross. He proceeded to smile and continue his left turn. It wasn't until my life flashed in front of the Boyfriend's eyes that he grabbed me by the collar and pulled me back. I think the man making the turn waved as he passed by, as if to say, "Hi! Thanks for not splattering yourself on the front of my car! I can't help it, this thing likes to move! Tee-hee!"

The second time I was on my way to work, on Market street. You know, I am a bit sympathetic for people who drive in the city, but I have no sympathy for people who go out into an intersection that they obviously won't get through during the traffic cycle, blocking cross traffic and making a nuisance of themselves. It smacks of a certain smug self-importance that makes me want to scratch paint jobs with my keys or launch a McMissle or two.

At any rate, as a pedestrian you can wait for a bit, but when the countdown timer starts going and the crosswalk is still not clear, one has to get moving. So we did. At which point, someone in a Selfish Urban Vehicle decided that finally, now, he should get out of the way of traffic. Through the pedestrians. He drove exactly fast enough that none of those pesky people walking could get in front of him safely (and sped up to do so, mind you) but not fast enough to actually clear their path. Several of us told him how much we loved this maneuver with open-palmed slaps on the side of his car, and finger gestures indicating he was Number 1, or at least right next to it.

Someday I'm going to get killed by someone in a car. But I'm beginning to suspect it won't be an accident.

12:47 AM PST (link)
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