Courtesy of the Green, Amber and Red (The Angry Pedestrian)

I realize that, especially to people who live in large cities and not in the hinterlands, this complaint will seem downright bizarre. No doubt the crankiest motorists in the US terrorize the roadways of LA, Chicago or Seattle (Why Seattle? I've heard several horror stories about Seattle drivers. Maybe the rainy season throws 'em all into a powerful collective bout of seasonal affective disorder, maybe they're still grumpy about the Fastbacks breaking up...); a pedestrian is vastly less likely to be killed by a motorist here as there. When it does happen, it probably won't be the result of malice or road rage but simple geriatric fogginess.

That said, none of the many sins that Madison drivers commit piss me off more than this:

So I'm walking down the street. I come to an unmarked crosswalk. Not even a particularly busy one, say, I dunno, the corner of East Mifflin and Ingersoll. A car's coming, and I remember what my mother told me to do in that situation. I wait, figuring it doesn't matter whether I get to the other side of the street in 7 seconds or 13 seconds.

Now a normal driver would just zip right along through the intersection; the only reason they'd pay any attention to me at all would be to make sure I didn't absent-mindedly wander into their path. But - and this only ever happens to me in Madison - very often I'll get a special driver, one who is sensitive to my needs as a pedestrian. They recognize that, look, we all wanna get across the street here, and its really just an accident of fate that they happen to be in a car and I happen to be on foot. And why is it fair that they, the motorist, always gets to go first? Why are their needs more important than mine? What, just because they're in a heavy steel machine moving at a high rate of speed and I'm just a soft, pink, slow, fragile creature? How fair is that? They sure wouldn't like it if the shoe was on the other foot...

How does this concerned citizen address this grievously unequal situation? Often as not, they'll STOP RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE INTERSECTION (sometimes screeching to a halt), right in front of where I'm waiting patiently and, with a grin that says Hey, man, we're all in this together, waves me through.

Despite what these lambs may have intended, this usually adds several seconds to my crossing, as its not always immediately clear if they're just slowing down, or turning, or pausing to get their bearings or what. Also, its a good bet that there are cars coming from the other direction driven by people with less immediate concern for my feelings, which means I've got to wait anyway. If I'm really lucky, there'll be cars BEHIND the first driver, each one piloted by someone who wants to go home to their families, get to work on time, go to the mall and drink a giant cup of soda, drive around town aimlessley for an hour or do anything but sit in the road and get roped into this nincompoop's charitable activity. And finally, there's me, suddenly the center of much unwelcome attention, under pressure to cross as quickly as possible so we can all get on with out lives and resentful of this dickhead and his need to demonstrate what a swell guy he is.

I always hurry to the other side, embarrassed and wanting to put an end to the whole scene. But someday I'm gonna flip him the bird, or kick his bumper as he finally goes by, or toss a rock through his windshield while he sits there or just wait. I wonder how long I'd have to stand on the corner pretending not to see before he got the hint: Waitaminute, this guy is a fricking adult, I bet he knows how to make it across the street without the timely intervention some good samaritan in a Yukon...

Of course, knowing this place, he'd just get out and offer to hold my hand...