#43 – No Drivers Ed in this Town
Delicate snowflakes dance around me as I wait to cross 3rd Avenue. I am warm and happy in my new periwinkle fleece coat as I gaze at the beautiful Christmas decorations adorning Bloomingdale's across the street.
Breathing in the crisp air, I am looking forward to spending too much money and later ice skating in Rockefeller Center. I will end the evening at the Top of the Rock with my husband.
With a crowd now waiting around me to cross the street, the crosswalk is finally in our favor and we begin the spirited journey across gritty asphalt to the shiny, bauble wonderland of shopping bliss.
We make it half way across the street when suddenly we are met with a small tan Nissan travelling at a high rate of speed. I clearly see the driver and the passengers as they close in on us. The young men are laughing as they dart the car to the left when we run to the left. We then try running to the right only to be met with the driver darting to the right. I realized I am experiencing my final moments and I decide I am not going to die in fear. Heavy doses of dread and white hot rage consume me. The crowd scattered in all directions as I stop and point at the driver. I remain motionless as I watch in slow motion the Nissan lock up its brakes and slide to a stop just millimeters from my trembling legs.
I slam my fists onto the hood of the car. The men are taken aback by my confrontational behavior. Their eyes widen. They jump and lean back as if I might grab them through their glass and steel cocoon of cowardice. From their shock, I gather they are from a region of the world where they freely terrorize people without fear of retribution. The driver quickly maneuvers around me and speeds off to continue his reign of horror. I turn and, from the center of the street, point at the car until it is out of sight.
Even though these men were not found and arrested for attempting to kill 20 pedestrians, I am confident justice will be served. Justice will creep in as they sleep. Justice will lay heavy upon their chests and will patiently, painfully steal each breathe until none is left.
"Welcome to Bloomingdale's, how may I be of service to you?"