The Stars and the Cookie Jar

I got knocked down by a shit damn hell ass motherfucking CAR.

I'm SO ANGRY.

Also sore. But the driver ran a red light, screeched to a smoking stop, hit me so I went over like a great fat goddamn beetle, and then REVERSED TO GET A BETTER ANGLE IN THE INTERSECTION and then KEPT DRIVING. AWAY. FROM THE PERSON HE KNOCKED DOWN. WHO WAS ME.

I've never felt such a weird, hard impact in my life. Luckily I landed extremely fortunately, and only my shoulder hit the raised, bricked curb (Alexandria, Virginia: Your country's forefathers didn't need no stinkin' concrete sidewalks!)

But he DROVE AWAY. I was in the ROAD and he DROVE AWAY.

And I didn't get a plate number because all I could see was my flobbery legs flailing in the air. All I know is that it was a dark blue sedan and the driver had dark hair and a serious bald spot and he KNOCKED A WOMAN DOWN IN BROAD DAYLIGHT AND DROVE AWAY.

A very nice man came running out of the post office and sort of righted me. I blanked out or something and started running after the trolley, of all things, so I could get to the Metro for free, and I'm sure I didn't thank him. I hope he works there so I can go in on Monday and say thank you.