To The Super-Cool Man Driving The Fabulous, Dark Blue, Convertible Porsche —
Thank you! Words nearly fail, but I will try to come up with a few. Thank you!
As soon as I saw you, I could tell that you were super-cool and important, just by looking at you and your car. I could tell that you had someplace very important to go and very important things to do when you got there. In fact, you might very well have already been conducting some sort of very important business (possibly in the financial markets?) on your phone (hands free, of course) as you sped along in your very impressive vehicle.
And there I was, at 8:30 in the morning, sitting in my car, stopped at a crosswalk , waiting for a pedestrian to cross. There you were, driving down the street behind me, in your shiny, fine-tuned machine. No, not driving. Racing. You were RACING down the street in my residential neighborhood, in a vehicle that exuded power and all kinds of masculine charisma.
At first, I didn’t notice you – I was focusing on the crossing pedestrian that, as it turns out, was a friend, and you were behind me.
But then, I sensed you there. I looked in my rear view, and there you were, like some sort of jungle cat, speeding along behind me, growing larger every instant.
Thank you! At that moment, thanks to you, I was able to experience something we so seldom encounter now, in our modern lives. I was taken back to our primordial days on the savannah. I felt the intense adrenaline rush of pure fear of the oncoming danger. You were not stopping or even slowing down. You were going to hit me. This might be it!
And then, you swerved, demonstrating the impressive handling of your automotive miracle, as well as your masculine calm and control, in your mastery of the situation. You moved into the turn lane next to me while slamming on the brakes. I watched as the pedestrian experienced the same rush as me, as she saw you coming and stepped back, her eyes round with awe (and fear).
Thank you! She and I, thanks to you, had the opportunity to experience the delicious throb of the adrenaline as we realized how close we came, and then realized we were still alive. Too bad that you did not come along just a few minutes earlier, because then you might have been able to share this life-affirming experience with some school children, crossing on their way to school. Oh, well, their loss.
You then, rolled down your window and apologized — apologized for putting us all in danger, apologized for being thoughtless and self-absorbed. And asked if we were ok. You asked if we were alright after this thrilling, exciting, terrifying experience.
Oh wait, that’s right! This last part didn’t happen. You did not apologize. In fact, when I pulled forward, even with you, you gave me a bored, irritated gesture to go ahead. “For God’s sake, move along, lady!” you seemed to say.
In fact, maybe I should apologize to YOU. As I said, it was perfectly apparent how important you are. You CLEARLY are more important then the pedestrian and me, as well as everyone else on the road. It was probably quite galling to you that people like us were holding you up in your progress through your very important day. It must be incredibly irritating to have mere mortals like us doing annoying things like crossing at the cross walk and, God forbid, stopping for those crossing in the crosswalk.
So I apologize, and thank you for this life changing experience.
Trust me. I will never forget you and your awesome blue Porsche.
P.S. Please make sure that you always have collision insurance. Thanks again.