To the woman who ran the red light this afternoon:

Fuck you.

Oh, I understand. You were going to take off work early today -- blow out of there at noon on a Friday because you deserved it. You were looking forward to catching Days of Lives and then maybe calling your sister on the east coast to gossip about mother's new boyfriend -- really! At her age?

And getting there 120 seconds earlier was really key because Days starts at 1 and you still had to get accross the bay bridge. Time wasn't on your side, damnit. Everyone knows that they reveal all the plot twists from the previous weeks in the opening 3 minutes of the show. If you catch those you can watch today's episode and understand what's going on, but miss them and you're screwed. No, getting in the garage by 12:57 is important. I understand.

So when you got to the intersection at Mission and Duboce and happened to be the unlucky bitch that didn't quite catch even the yellow light so you could scoot through, I can see why you felt the need to run the light. I mean, damnit, you blew off work! You've got to catch Days! If you didn't catch that light, the whole point of your truancy is down the goddamned toilet.

The fact that you hesitated wasn't professional though. I mean, usually when people run red lights it's with the notion that they've almost made it. They're right there on the border of yellow and red. Or maybe it's a herd mentality -- everyone else is still going and if you're just tacked on the end of the pack you're safe. But when the light has been red for you for 2 or 3 seconds, and all the other people who chronically run that light every day have already cleared the intersection... it's just not the right time to make your move.

...which is why I didn't see you coming. I understand with the Days urgency and all why you did it. It's just that I had no idea you were coming. If it weren't for the fellow on my left who skidded to a stop honking his horn I probably would have ditched my motorcycle through your passenger side door and joined you on your way to Piedmont, perhaps a little dead, but along for the ride all the same. Instead, his avoidance of you clued me in to your presence and gave me just enough time to lay my bike down into the nice soft asphalt.

The fucked up thing is that I'm angry at myself for letting you do it to me. I'm an attentive driver. I've been driving a motorcycle for 3 years now and, until recently, without incident. And here you come from out of nowhere -- which is exactly where I should be watching since so many of you assholes come from there -- and the next thing I know I'm lying in the middle of a very busy intersection with a still-running motorcycle on my leg. I felt like an amaeture out there. Thanks for filling me with all sorts of doubt and paranoia.

I hope that Days was all you hoped for.