The Switch

I have a switch. It's the one that sounds like "itch" and begins with a "B". It doesn't get tripped often - but when it does, my heart pounds and impulse takes over.

So, let's set the scene...shall we?

It's an ordinary Tuesday afternoon, it's sunny, I'm happily approaching one of my favorite stores...la, la, la (skip, skip)...

This is the intersection in question. (To answer your question, yes, I drove back to the scene of the incident like a crazy person to photograph this for you)

I stood on the corner of the sidewalk on the right and a car was approaching the stop sign to the left...



See the stop sign??? It's clearly a stop sign! And just in case the large red octagon is too ambiguous for you, the word STOP is painted on the road next to it.



Here, let's take a look from the driver's perspective. Yep, definitely a stop sign.

Imagine me stepping off the curb on the opposite side. Imagine how I'm walking briskly because of all the crafty goodness that lies just beyond those doors. Imagine how excited I am to not have any kids while I'm doing this.



Now, imagine that I'm hearing the stopped car approaching...it's approaching kind of close...it's actually accelerating! Imagine me kind of quick stepping it a little faster as I glance a few times toward the accelerating car thinking "Holy crap! I've obviously just gained the power to become invisible and I can't even use this power to spy or prank people! I'm going to get hit by this car before I can even put this power to good use tapping my friends on the shoulder or moving chairs before people can sit down!"

And then...flick! The switch gets tripped (the bitch one) as I look into the windshield and see the person does indeed see me, and is just impatient.

So, now I have two choices. The first makes the most sense and is certainly the one I should have chosen: RUN! But, see, the switch was tripped and all self control is lost. I start to hustle a little faster, then, impulse takes over and I. Stop.

That's it, I. Just. Stop. I stand there with my hands on my hips, giving the most withering "Mom stink eye" I can muster and shout (no, I'm not proud of myself) "Seriously?! No, SERIOUSLY?!? You are accelerating toward me while I'm crossing in the CROSSWALK? SERIOUSLY??" (I'm not sure why I felt compelled to repeat the word "seriously" so many times. It just felt right)

The person then stopped accelerating and continued to drift toward me as I turned and took my own sweet time across the street and into the solace of my favorite JoAnn's - a whole parking lot full of people staring after me, gaping.

The end.