Some punk chick flipped me off the other night.
I was minding my own business at a stoplight--behind a car full of girls--patiently waiting for it to turn so I could pick up the pizza I was headed for, then return it to my hungry Mr. Marvelous and his little brother who were hanging out at home.
Apparently, the height of my vehicle was just right to shine the headlights dead on in her driver's side mirror. Which evidently ticked her right off.
As soon as I noticed her place her hand over her mirror in an attempt to shield the glare, I thought, "Oh no. Oh, shoot. How do I turn these things off for a bit?"
You know, that'd be a nice thing to do. And, I like to think I'm a nice person.
I've never hit or cussed at anyone. I don't steal, talk smack to people, or use the express checkout when I have more than 12 items.
I'm a square sista. I mean no harm.
Obviously the girl didn't, because she flew the bird out the window as the light turned green and she drove her posse away.
For pete's sake. It was dark out and our windows are quite tinted. For all she knew, I could have been her little old grandmother borrowing a big, black Titan.
And really. Who flips off their grandmother?
P.S. That picture up there is the first and very wrong color--and the one that's long gone--that we chose for the kitchen we're remodeling. Remember what it used to look like? The painters graciously repainted the new color the next day. And I love it. Like, really love it. Like love love gooey love. Updated photos coming soon.