While Boulder is full of invisible crosswalks, there are many pedestrians who seem to know where they are. Either that or there's a bunch of assholes who randomly will walk into traffic. Oddly enough, depending on which car I'm driving, I'm either more sympathetic to random traffic crossing (in the older car that lets me walk more when it breaks down) or I get more pissy (in my newer nice car that doesn't want hippie splattered on the front bumper thank-you-very-much). I drove the nice car today and was unmoved by the plight of pedestrians too lazy to walk another 20 feet to the lighted crosswalk.
And as I've been a towering inferno of politeness (it's really too bad sarcasm doesn't work in typing), I beep my horn at said ass-monkeys. I beep my horn when people go way, way too slow, I beep my horn when they cut me off, I beep often because it's a way of publicly judging a stranger loudly. I visited Panama once upon a time and was routinely startled by all manner of random beeping. They beep to say "HI!", they beep to let you merge, they beep to say they are going to pass you, they beep to warn everyone they're turning, they beep when you are being stupid, etc. Since then, my beeper-hand has fondled the horn fondly (I love the phrase "fondled it fondly" oh, wait, that's from one of my poems. Please allow me to quote myself).
I'm hungry and mightily distracted. And I've got a rehearsal tonight. I'm going to go fondle some dinner fondly.
An Erinku:
cupcake sprinkles
magic
perfection
on frosting
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