Walk Rage

I don't drive anymore for multiple reasons including
1. little brother stole my car which apparently was always "ours", but now my parents use the pronoun "his" when referring to it
2. I think my license is expired
3. Road signs aren't color coded according to route (a la 1,2,3, Central, Jubilee)

But when I did, I often experienced road rage (hard to believe, I know:-); when some one cuts you off (in your own lane!) or accelerate so you can't bleed into theirs.

Now, when I leave the station to walk home a flood of workers eager to follow my lead pour past me. And they make for a very unnerving experience of what I dub - Walk Rage. I get pissy at all the people in my way. Packs of middle schoolers walking to the Sea Port trudge slowly, tourists block traffic in both directions as they look for Broadway, and commuters push towards my station's three pathetic turnstiles (& bitchy afternoon MTA employee - the early morning shift woman is VERY nice).

I know I'm sounding selfish but honestly, they're all just in my way. And the African men just trying to make a buck selling nick-nacks on stall tables are not helping the traffic overflow at all, their damn tables take up like 1/2 the side walk in an area already suffering from construction. It's such a bother.

Vegan Update: I ate turkey last night at Alex's house b/c we were celebrating Thanksgiving. I couldn't resist, him grandma Leslie and mom made the best food, and his dad is the greatest dark meat carver of Brooklyn. If that's even a title. Also, my soy mango ice cream rocks.