A decrepit, bent-over old lady in a green dress and a pillbox hat was trying to make it across 7th Avenue at 23rd street. Of course she moved very slowly and the light changed before she could get all the way across, and so she was stuck about half-way out in the street as cars whizzed around her. Still, eyes set straight ahead, she struggled determinedly on, step by step toward the curb.
A bread truck roared around the corner and headed straight for her. It looked like he was going to plow her down, but instead he slammed on his brakes, stopping mere feet from her and laying on his horn.
The old lady started, then stopped dead in her tracks, straightened herself up, and turned to face the trucker. “Fuck you!” she said, and gave him the finger.
The Hotel Chelsea has a wonderful blog.
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Is this what I have to look forward to?
I’d better start practising with the finger!
Paul’s mum, a sixty-something