I was on my way to brunch with my husband and kiddo, a family celebration for our wedding anniversary. I was driving, and our nine-year-old was in the back seat. The sun was out, birds were chirping, everything was beautiful. 

Then you pulled up next to us in your large, white SUV. You stopped just ahead of us, blocking the crosswalk at a busy intersection. Hanging your head out the window, you felt the need to scream, "Learn how to drive, you fucking bitch," and then you peeled out. 

My kid was scared. I was pissed, and took a picture. I wanted to file a police report, but no one is answering the non-emergency phone. And there are plenty of worse things happening in the world. But seriously, fuck you for your over-the-top anger at someone you don't know for driving the speed limit on a gorgeous Sunday morning. 

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