This is M-I-N-N-E-S-O-T-A.
It is winter. Snow has fallen, great big heaps of it. Continuing with this lesson plan, ice accompanies snow. Have you noticed that the streets are gloppy slick and thinner?
Let us toss in night. By 5 pm, there is darkness. There is rush hour, too.
Let us stand back and hold this alchemy in our hands: thin roads, ice, snow, darkness, fast traffic.
This, it would appear, is the perfect time to walk out in the middle of the street -- not at any corner, but just start making your way across the busy downtown street. Because traffic exists, you must stop in the middle of the street waiting for west bound cars to slow. You've already halted eastbound traffic.
The Matron saw you do this. Saw the step into the street, the way the eastbound cars slammed on their brakes for a pedestrian crossing in the middle of the street as if nobody else existed. When you paused in the middle, peering at the west bound vehicles and willing them to stop, the Matron decided: she wouldn't.
She slowed down but even when you tried to step in front of her -- to stop the car--the Matron kept going. Cars to her right slammed on her brakes. But the wily Matron? She saw your hesitant step, the foot moving forward with the other firmly planted and the body leaning back, the way you were testing -- two inches away --and she called your bluff. And kept driving.
Of course, everyone else slammed on their brakes so that you could stroll across a busy street during rush hour courtesy of a sense of entitlement or complete idiocy so staggering that, well, should someone hit you?
No great loss.
There was rage in your eyes when the Matron drove past - dark core rage. The Matron saw it clearly, being two inches from your face and making a point of meeting those eyes. She's sure there was something equally powerful in hers but she's not sure what. Why she decided not to stop, especially given the poor driving conditions.