Dear Sort of Hot Pregnant Broad,
You no doubt have somewhere very important to get to. It is the middle of the day and you must have been coming from a yoga class … maybe heading back to your swank Beacon Hill condo. But did you have to run across traffic on Cambridge Street? You must realize that your giant belly doesn’t make you impervious to dying after getting run over by my truck. Then, as I slowed down to allow your jay-walking ass to pass, you started yelling at me.
I did nothing wrong.
If this was NYC you would both be dead because cars there speed up when they see jaywalkers.
I have walked against the light many times but only if there are no cars coming. If a car suddenly appears … you should hurry the fuck up to the other sidewalk. When I yelled, “that’s how you kill two people” I fucking meant it.
I’d hit it.