I’m jogging in my neighborhood on a residential street with no sidewalks, next to a park. You drive down the road toward me. There is a “20 is plenty” sign on the side of the road. I’m making my way across the street to jog through the park, and you speed up and drive dangerously close right by me. I slap your windshield with the palm of my hand. It hits it hard because you’re driving so fast.
You screech to a stop, jump out of your mini-cooper and rush me. I’m backing up. I’m in my fifties and you’re over six feet tall. I turn to get away and you shove me to the ground. I hit my head on the pavement. I turn around on the ground and you knock my phone out of my hand. It goes sliding across the road. I say to you, “don’t drive so fast.”
Why did you decide I wasn’t the kind of target you are looking for after all? I watch you change your mind.
You get back in your car and I get a picture of your license plate before you drive away. Now I’m looking at the picture of your license plate at home and it has a “Marine Dad, US Marine Corps” frame around the plate. Good for you. I’m a husband and also a father. People in the armed services, this guy is not your friend. He’s out there being a pro a$$hole on your behalf.