If I Had a Hammer

Back when I used to enjoy running daily, I was always particularly irked by drivers who would lurch into intersections when pedestrians had the clear right of way. There are a few variations of this thoughtless practice. One is the driver whose car blocks the pedestrian crosswalk so that people are forced to inch around their car's nose into oncoming traffic. Another is the car (often cab or BMW driver) who is determined to run over pedestrians while turning to the right through a crosswalk.

In those days, running with headphones made it especially challenging to dodge inconsiderate drivers. So, self-righteous creature that I am, I thought of ways I might exact revenge. One was to hurl one of those little clear crazy bouncy balls at their windshield. Harmless, I thought, but...Boi-oi-oing! Not good enough. My second thought was to run with a little rubber hammer tucked into the sleeve of my sweatshirt. A car lurches at me in the intersection and I stop, eyeballing the driver, supervillain stance, brandishing the hammer set to pound the car's hood. It would be delightfully comical, I imagined, to decorate the hammer in a very Las Vegas show-girly way: pink feathers, sequins, and fringe tassles.*

I never actually executed any of these instructive methods. Until today. I awoke from a groggy nap with an intense desire for an ice cream cone. Minutes later, I was strolling towards Bughouse Square with a double scoop of Cherries Jubilee on a sugar cone. A BMW sat almost in the intersection of Clark and Oak, completely blocking the crosswalk. I gingerly pushed the stroller in front of the car's hood, made eye contact with the driver and turned my sugar cone upside down, and lowered until it was poised to be planted on his hood. Then I blew a raspberry at him (my son has taught me well) righted the ice cream cone and took an evil lick. Sucker.

That ice cream cone was especially yummy.




*The idea for decorating a hammer, of course, came from an episode of The Gilmore Girls. Inspired.