To the cyclist who got clotheslined this morning at the intersection of Wilson, Seward Park and S. Morgan, by stupidly maneuvering between me and my dog:
No, I don’t need to watch where I’m going, and no, I don’t need to put my dog on a shorter leash.
See, those white lines crossing the road from curb to curb with a lighted “Crosswalk” sign hanging overhead… that’s what is known as a “crosswalk.” And that means that you, and all other vehicles, are obligated to stop for me, and all other pedestrians, as we cross the street. Just like that silver minivan did… you know, the one you heedlessly sped around on your way between me and my dog.
I suppose it’s possible that the minivan blocked your vision, and so you couldn’t see my dog in the street, or perhaps me stepping off the curb, nor obviously the thin strand of leash between us, but that’s your responsibility, not mine, so next time, when approaching a crosswalk, slow the fuck down.