"Don't hit at all if it is honorably possible to avoid hitting; but never hit soft."The other day I managed to kick a car, endure the owner getting in my face, and still maintain my flawless record of never having been in a fight. (See
here for more details on my accidental pacifism.)
There's an intersection I have to cross every day on my way to work that acts as an off-ramp for I-5. It also connects First Hill with Downtown and I swear I'm going to die there. I got lightly nudged there a few months ago by a Terminix truck. So anyway, I almost got hit there again while I was crossing when the white man on the flashing "walk sign" said I was supposed to.
I had to jump back on the sidewalk to avoid being hit by a guy in a fairly nice car making a right turn so I lightly tapped the door panel with my foot. You know, the door panel that almost took my kneecaps off? It probably wasn't my smartest move but I was strategic about the kick - just hard enough to make him pay attention but not hard enough to cause damage.
Well, he didn't like that one bit so he turned around and stopped in the middle of the road when he was parallel to me. (It's strange that there was no one else around during this whole incident. Seattle has a very post-apocalyptic vibe to it at 5:30 in the morning.) He yells,"Hey, what do you think you're doing?"
"Going to work."
"Did you kick my car?"
"Did you almost run me over? Sorry, I get a little emotional when I almost die."
"Stop walking or I'll call the cops."
"Good. I'm sure they'd love to hear that you don't know what a red light means."
"You little punk, you just better there's no damage." He got out to check and discovered there wasn't. All I really noticed about him was that he was not too big and he was wearing his nametag around his neck and that he needed a shave.
"You better hope you don't run anybody over."
He ran over to the sidewalk and got in my face. "It's a free right on red."
"Not when the sign tells me to walk."
"It wasn't on."
"Yes, it was. You need to pay attention."
"Don't kick my car."
"Fine. I won't kick your car and you won't try to run me over." At this point it was clear that neither one of us wanted to fight. We were just a couple of desk jockeys with big mouths." "Sounds like we have a deal then," I said as he walked back to his car.
True, I shouldn't have given his car a love pat but I bet he pays attention next time. It's tough out here for a pedestrian. We're the forgotten collateral damage of Car-Bike war.
