Who: An impatient van driver, a large pedestrian, and me, the bystander.
Where: Broadway and Barclay Street in Lower Manhattan
When: 11:45 a.m.
What: A van waiting for pedestrians to cross Barclay Street. As it idles and finally drives left--around a tall dude with a large-ish gut--the driver leans out the window, looks back to make eye contact and says, "Way to take your time. What are you, pregnant?"
How: Easily.
Why: Because.
A couple of blocks later, I almost got hit by a taxi who sped up on the sight of me. This kind of thing always makes me doubtful of my appearance. If I were hotter, would he still have sped up to hit me? Or, would he instead have slowed down to get a better look. Curious. Now that I lived, I'd better hit the gym.
3 comments:
That's just crazy talk, Anne Altman.
Everyone knows that taxi drivers are evil, crazy, people and they don't discriminate about who they run over.
Maybe your hotness blinded him and he couldn't drive??!
crazy talk! it's all i know!
Men in the middle east purposely hit other women with their cars in order to talk to them because they are not allowed to talk to them socially.
However, the are usually hitting women with their cares who are IN cars, not walking down the street.
So... because you were not in a car, I would have to chalk this up as crazy.
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