Riding home tonight, in the dark, I come to an intersection and stop. There’s a guy and his dog in the crosswalk. The opposing traffic is stopped, waiting for him to cross. One of the two lanes of cross traffic is also stopped, waiting to turn right.

Only the cross traffic in the opposite lane, about to turn left, isn’t stopping. There, doing whatever he pleases, is Old Man Driver. He’s turning directly into the crosswalk, about to run down crosswalk Guy and his dog.

Guy, pointing at the paint in the street: “There’s a crosswalk here!”

Much hand waving from both Guy and Old Man. Then Old Man Driver rolls down his window. It’s 15 degrees outside, so he had better have something good to say.

Guy: “It’s a crosswalk! I’m in it!”

Man: “I can’t be expected to see everything!”

Guy: “Then you shouldn’t be driving!”

Man: “You’re a whore!”

Only he used a modifier in front of whore which in a more literal context would suggest the guy in the crosswalk was at least competent in that line of work.

Old Man drives off. I turn to crosswalk Guy with that look you share with people in these situations and he says, “and that guy’s my neighbor!”