I parked my car across the street from my destination and put some money in the meter. There was only a little bit of traffic, but spaced out enough that I decided to not walk directly across the street and instead make my way to the cross walk, which was just a couple building widths away. I made it there just as the orange man was counting down on the sign across the street, so I waited. Our traffic laws demand a lot of waiting of us.
Upon seeing the orange man disappear and a white man take his place, I began stepping into the street. A loud yell of “Hey” caused me to hesitate. I saw to my side a car coming around the corner, making a right turn across the cross walk. After a pause, the passenger went on to say something like “Watch where you’re fucking going”.
At this point, I was angry. Our traffic laws are not pedestrian friendly, but cross walks with little white men on the other side are definitely one area where it’s clear that the pedestrian has right of way (excepting funeral processions and emergency vehicles).
I stepped forward as they proceeded with their turn. They took it wide and fast enough that there was no chance for me to get in front of them, but in that moment, I wanted to.
Road rage as a pedestrian. In my car or on my feet, I try to just go with the flow, a dance of people negotiating their way through other people to their destination. But sometimes, when people improve their own situation at the expense of others in this dance, it makes me angry. In my anger, I try to even things out and enforce rules meant to keep peoples’ consideration in the dance relatively even.
Rage can carry along for a while after it’s picked up. I had trouble focusing. When I got back in my car, I drove aggressively. I didn’t really calm down until I sat down for dinner