An Open Letter to the Guy Who Tried to Run Me Over - The Reykjavik Grapevine

An Open Letter to the Guy Who Tried to Run Me Over

An Open Letter to the Guy Who Tried to Run Me Over

Published September 4, 2009

RX Beckett

Dear guy in the black SUV,
Maybe you missed the memo, but it is fairly common knowledge that the order of movement at an intersection is pedestrian-car-pedestrian-car. It might have gone to you junk folder. It happens. Still, I don’t really understand why you felt the need to go pedal-to-the-metal on my ass when I had patiently waited for the car in front of you to go by and started scuttling across Pósthússtræti.
First of all, you were tailgating the person in front of you, which is a pretty dickish move to begin with. I mean—unless you enjoy breathing in extra carbon monoxide and exhaust fumes from other cars—what’s the point? You might as well just grab a paper bag, huff some gas and chill out (note: I do not in any way condone huffing gas. It’s beyond gross). Second, I know I am incredibly short and there is a chance you can’t see the top of my head up there in your two-storey high driver’s seat, but that ain’t my fault either. If you did your driver’s education right, you should be watching out for tiny moving things like myself no matter what the size of your car. Truck drivers seem to avoid killing me, so why can’t you?
But I know you saw me! I fucking made eye contact with you as I started crossing and right before you tried to plow me down! YOU EFFING SAW ME. Thanks tons for stopping before breaking my hip. Even at the quick pace I walk, I wouldn’t have been able to dodge your massive bumper. So yeah, I stopped and gave you the ‘I’m walking here!’ look and refrained from smacking the hood of your car and actually shouting it.
So what is your problem anyway? Nearly all motorists in this city have good enough reflexes to stop when they see a moving human in front of them, and most are kind enough to wave us through ahead of them. I build my karma by giving them all a gracious nod in return. So who are you trying to be? The exception that proves the rule? Some kind of colossal jackass? Were you just busy and stressed and preoccupied by your very important life?
Chill out man. I would appreciate not getting killed.
Yours,
Rebecca

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