A pedestrian rant: Can we all be more careful drivers and walkers, please?

Well, it feels like this some days. Photo credit.

“What’d you say?!” he yelled, jacking open the door of his busted up black Mustang. I believe I had uttered “Excuse me?”

When I raised my hand in a “nevermind” gesture, he shouted, “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

So I stopped mid-crosswalk where he had almost run me down just moments ago and hollered back, “Watch where you’re going!” (“Jackass” salutation implied but not stated.)

I mumbled under my breath, “What the hell is your problem?” and trotted to my building fuming with adrenaline. I’d just been talking to a friend about how I refused to die in Tempe* and found myself mentally thrashing the undergrad idiot who nearly smashed me on the search for a close parking space.

Given that I am nearly mowed down mid-crosswalk at least every other week on my way to and from school, I want to scream to the heavens: BE CAREFUL, DRIVERS!

I am tired of near-misses. I am weary of having bumpers nearly kiss my calves when turning right on red lights without looking. I am so over people yelling at me for having the audacity to use the crosswalk.

Now I realize that pedestrians are stupid, too. I am guilty of jaywalking every so often, or cutting through parking lots. I own that. But how about we collectively be more careful? I wouldn’t relish getting hurt (mostly because I’ve heard how painful auto v. pedestrian interactions are), but I would hate to accidentally kill someone even more.

So please, please, please drivers (and I am also talking to myself), navigate intersections and parking with lots of care. And pedestrians, please, please, please use crosswalks, avoid blind spots and do your best to be seen.

Please and thank you.


*The conversation referred to my impending maiden bicycle voyage tonight. She said that in the bylaws of our friendship, I’m not allowed to die. I confirmed that after falling from the sky in an airplane and surviving, I refuse to kick off in such a boring fashion. I must be tempting fate.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.