If it weren't for a comfortably middle class income, I would be one of the smelly vagrants stopping traffic in the middle of downtown.
You see, I have a lot on my mind. I'm always rushing to somewhere, or from somewhere, and quite often, I've had a drink or six.
I do know that I should look both ways before crossing the street, or at least check for the flashy hand.
But sometimes (as is an hour ago), I finish crossing and hear a car whoosh behind me. Meaning that I crossed against the light.
Oops, sorry about that. Does it help that I have no actual memory of looking, crossing or walking? Because I'm all busy thinking about the audio lecture I have to listen to, the event I'm coordinating on Thursday, and the delightful spaghetti squash I'm roasting for dinner?
I thought not.
But still, I'm sorry. Just be grateful I don't have a car. I'm a pedestrian for a reason.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
The car whooshing is better than the sound of tires screeching.
Trust me.
And I've always got someone shorter and much younger than me when I cross a street.
and mmmmmmmmmmmmmm spaghetti squash!
Post a Comment