Dear Hurried Ikea Shopper Lady: I know you were in a hurry to get some cheap, poorly made colorful goods to decorate your McCraftsman. That was my gay lover and I happily sipping on our coffee drinks, two-thirds of the way across the crosswalk, when your red Mazda almost ran over my foot. I slapped your window and regret it for two reasons: The window didn't break, and my thumb kind of hurts.  I hope the bookshelf you purchased at Ikea is missing parts. And to the guy who witnessed the event and decided he was "going to make it his business": You are a douchebag. Thank you for informing me that if it had been your car I slapped, you'd sue me for damages. You obviously overestimate my strength and the purpose of litigation. I believe your brain is already missing parts.—Anonymous