On my way home from work is a factory that employs mentally challenged folks. Among the products they make at this factory is Christmas wreaths. And as far as I know, all the profits go back into the factory.
Anyhow, it's 3:30 and all the workers at this factory are done for the day and huddled on the sidewalk, waiting for the crossing guard to help them across the street. Or waiting in the bus shelter for the bus. The crossing guard lets one of the workers across the street.
After passing the factory, I need to make a right turn. I see the person who was just let across the street seems to want to cross the street I'm going to be turning onto. So I stop to let him go.
And then I get about the biggest, longest horn blast I've ever gotten in my life from the car behind me as the guy is slowly shuffling across the street. Had I had an old beater car that I didn't care what happened to it, I might have thrown it into reverse and driven right through this fuckwad's windshield. Seriously, you don't encourage me to splatter somebody so you can reach your destination 4 seconds faster than you otherwise would've.
Anyhow, it's 3:30 and all the workers at this factory are done for the day and huddled on the sidewalk, waiting for the crossing guard to help them across the street. Or waiting in the bus shelter for the bus. The crossing guard lets one of the workers across the street.
After passing the factory, I need to make a right turn. I see the person who was just let across the street seems to want to cross the street I'm going to be turning onto. So I stop to let him go.
And then I get about the biggest, longest horn blast I've ever gotten in my life from the car behind me as the guy is slowly shuffling across the street. Had I had an old beater car that I didn't care what happened to it, I might have thrown it into reverse and driven right through this fuckwad's windshield. Seriously, you don't encourage me to splatter somebody so you can reach your destination 4 seconds faster than you otherwise would've.
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