Imagine, if you will, that you are a high-strung, irascible woman on a bicycle, coming home from a colossally frustrating day at the office, when some stooge honks his horn at you while you are going under a narrow, dark, skanky, spooky railroad bridge. What would you do?
I did what I always do when some idiot feels the need to blast his horn at me when I am on my bike. I screamed one of those blood-and-gristle horror movie shrieks and flipped him the bird.
Too bad the asshole in question was driving a schoolbus. Worse yet, it was a very full. I was still reeling and seething with shock, fury, and then mortification, as I may have taught a bunch of Kansas City’s up-and-coming generation a new gesture.
I knew I shoulda stood in bed.