Today, I almost ran into an old lady--on purpose.
It's not that I dislike the elderly. In fact, I quite like them.
They're wise, they have good stories, and I'm obsessed with studies that show they're still having sex.
I'm especially fond of oldies when they're going rogue: stuffing biscuits into Ziplock bags at Sizzler, grabbing an excessive handful of Equal packets at the coffee shop, and swearing like a sailor at the remote control.
But I draw the line at breaking the rules of the road. Old people should not be allowed to drive. I reiterate, OLD PEOPLE, GET OFF THE ROAD!!!
Today's old lady was especially obnoxious. She was driving a Smartcar, the puny, pretentiously efficient clown car favored by the environmentally chic. She cut me off at the intersection of Hayes and Pierce.
Now, living in a city, I'm used to being cut off, bumped, honked at. I take it all in stride. But somehow it's 10 times worse from people whose most endearing quality is their refusal to indulge in the latest trendy gadget or at least their hapless efforts at navigating its use.
Bring back the clunky Buicks. Even steal my heart with a vintage Mercedes. But please don't cut me off with a $20K eco-friendly middle finger.
