I was running a quick errand before I went to count the church money. I had successfully crossed one street, using the crosswalk and looking both ways. I was halfway across the second street, again, having used the crosswalk and looked both ways, when the driver of a Jeep inches away from me started to accelerate into me, totally oblivious to my walking across the crosswalk.
She was at a four-way stop. She had apparently come to a complete stop. She had merely neglected to see if there was anyone coming in the crosswalk. Or perhaps even from any other direction.
I jumped back. She stopped. I stared. She yelled, "You were in my blind spot!"
I shook my head and continued across the street, thinking horribly non-Christian thoughts about the bitch. She shouted again "I'm sorry," she said this time.
I had reached the sidewalk by this time, shaken, and I didn't bother looking back or acknowledging her belated apology.
"You're not even going to look at me?" she yelled next.
I had seen a toddler in the middle of the back seat, secure in her cocoon. I think the presence of the toddler was the only reason I didn't yell back at her or flip her off following her initial "You were in my blind spot!" outburst.
I paid no attention to the bitch who had almost run me over and whose initial reaction was to blame me, the victim. I know there are too many dead pedestrians in the right. Her apology after blaming me was not worth being voiced. Her indignation that I ignored her after all that would have made me laugh had I not been so shaken.
I finished my errand and then walked over to the church, still fuming. Why still fuming? Because I was so ticked at that bitch and I was having a hard time reconciling doing something good -- like volunteering to count and deposit the church money -- with feeling like I wanted to wring someone's neck.
On the other hand, it was pretty charitable of me not to beat the hell out of the hood of her car.