I am not an angry person. At least, I wasn't one before I moved to New York.
People on bikes were cute. Rollerblading was healthy. And boys on skateboards were hot. Not anymore.
At least once a day, I feel Hulk-like anger come over me (so. irrational.) because I've almost been ran over by someone on wheels. Again. If it isn't a baby boy on a skateboard, or, more often, an older-than-me on a skateboard, it's a delivery-person on a bike, or someone who's decided that they must rollerblade to-day even if they haven't yet learned how to stop.
People on bikes are terrifying. Rollerbladers, honestly, never know what brakes are. Boys on skateboards, here, turn the sidewalks into a game of chicken.
I need a car.
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