To The Haitian Driver Who Nearly Sent Me To The Great Beyond When All I Wanted To Do Was Make It Home With My Groceries,
Why you stopped short at the stop sign in the parking lot, paused a good long few minutes, then began backing up WITHOUT looking back JUST as I was making it around your back bumper, is beyond me.
Perhaps it was my loud shout from deep down in my chest or the clamoring of your passengers that alerted you to the malice you were about to inflict upon my person that finally made you halt. Whatever it was, I thank Divine Providence for sparing me this day.
Did I see my life flash before my eyes?
What I saw was your very red bumper going very fast and getting very close to my chair, despite how hard I was pushing my controller to get me out of harms way. What I did was brace myself for impact by imagining my left knee being crushed and my left ribs collapsing my fragile lungs while simultaneously urging my chair to get the lead out.
You stopping your car and getting out to say sorry, while one of your female passengers snickered in the backseat only fueled my ire. And that is the reason why I rode off screaming “I DON’T WANT YOUR SORRY!”
If I could have blessed you with a middle finger in the air as I rode off, I would have given you TWO.
May your hemorrhoids strike when the stores are closed and may you mistaken toothpaste for Preparation H.
-The Short Brown Disabled Woman Who Lives To Write Another Day
#PleaseHandInYourLicenseSir #NoCarForYou #IWouldHaveSuedForEveryLastPieceOfGriotInYourFridge