Since when did almost being hit by a car become mundane?

“I almost got hit by a car today” has become a regular phrase in our house. I say it, my everlovin’ fiance (EF) says it, our friends who live(d) in the building say it, friends who don’t live anywhere near me say it.

And so, with regards to that, I say:

W. T. F.

I mean, really. I am a careful pedestrian. The EF might say overly careful (“Sweetie, that car is stopped at a red light, five blocks away. I /think/ we can make it…”). I look both ways. I get eye contact. I move quickly and directly across the street. I respect traffic signals (even annoying, inconvenient, or ungodly slow ones).

So why in sweet flaming heck do I almost get hit by a car /at least/ once a week?

I’m not exaggerating the ‘almost’ of that either. I’m only talking about the “bumper-slappers” — the ones where the car catches itself within a foot or two of your leg. Or where you actually do end up smacking the car with your hand because they’ve almost slowly driven into you. Or where you flip a guy off as he almost nips off your toes, as he rips through a crosswalk.

I will be ever so pissed if I die because some jackass didn’t look right before making a right. Or didn’t check for pedestrians before making a left. Or had his head too far up his arse to notice the lights flashing at a crosswalk.

Ever. so.

So drivers are on notice. If you do manage to take me out one of these days, buckle up, cuz you’re in for a sumbitch of a haunting.