Okay, I might not…but I’ll think about it, and shame on you for making me.

You know who you are. You pack of people who piled out of the MARTA station at Lenox like ants from a hill that had been kicked. You who followed the young woman in the red high heeled boots, trailing her by 15 paces out into the intersection when the flaming hot hand on the digital pedestrian sign screamed DO NOT WALK at you with its solid illuminated signal. You who stood in front of my truck when I had the green light, then waffled about what to do like a squirrel on a country road causing me and the cars behind me to miss it entirely. And specifically YOU, schlubby wannabe rebel boy with your shaggy hair, horrible posture and 70’s sunglasses, who smacked the hood of my truck with a fist and yelled “pedestrians!” at me.

You give us a bad name.

I’m a pedestrian. I love walking around this city, I love that I get to live in a place that affords us mobility options (in some neighborhoods, anyway), and I love that we have the right of way. That does *not* mean you should abuse it by hiding behind the law (that you’ve conveniently misinterpreted) and it does not mean that given the chance, I won’t pull over and Nancy Kerrigan your ass with a tire iron.

I won’t, but you shouldn’t put it past me.

Seriously, thanks, to all you negligent pedestrians for giving us all a bad name, and for giving the people at organizations like PEDS one more hurdle to jump. I really appreciate it.