Semaphore

An Open Letter to the woman with the flags:

Happy Easter, and greetings! I send my humblest apology after our encounter this morning. However, I have drafted this letter to explain my side of the story; and by the end, I think we will both agree that I am in the right.

When I first met you, I just caught a glimpse of you out of the corner of my eye. I couldn't tell if it was the twinkle in your eye, your beautiful pink blouse, or those glorious orange banners in your hands that caught my attention. Your wisened face turned toward me, each wrinkle representing another year of insight...eras of experience in your countenance with the rays of the rising sun outlining each in golden light. I tipped my head to you, in deference to your age and poise; if you could have heard me, I would have said "Glorious Morning, isn't it, Maam?" with the grandest of smiles. This moment belonged to us.

Then, with the deftest of motions, your left foot shot forward, your eyes fixed straight ahead of you now. You stepped right into the road...my road....as I crossed adroitly in front of you in my humble car (obeying the speed limit and noting no crosswalk, mind you!). And as I passed, I glanced over to you hoping to see that same glimmer that caught my eye before. But all I could see was the curling down of the corners of your mouth. I could not hear what words passed your lips, since Talib Kweli sung his sweet song loudly in my ears, but the motions were obvious. For shame, madam, on this Easter Morning (the holiest of Days on the Christian Calendar*) I was subjected to the foulest of language that I have heretofore never heard cross a proper lady's lips. I am sorry for our misunderstanding, and hope our next meeting is under better circumstances.
(P.S.: The aforementioned Orange Crossing Flags are to be used only in sanctioned crosswalks, they do NOT make you invincible. Be warned: You WILL get your ass broke.)

(*note: some may argue that Christmas, the birth of Christ, is the holiest day of the Christian year....however, surely you must admit that coming back from death is a feat more stupendous that being born. Granted, being born from a virgin definitely is something very special....but, really, how many times in the history of the world has that story been told by unwed mothers-to-be? Okay, okay....don't get pissed, just joking...I already know I'm going to hell)