An Open Letter to a Moron

Dear Moron,

Last evening, we met as you were walking down the double dividing line of a four lane, 55 mile an hour road.  You were the one wearing cargo shorts, a boonie hat, and walking with one crutch.  I was the the 3rd driver I know who was moving in the opposite direction who had to swerve at the last minute so as to not turn you into a statistic.

You see, there are no streetlights in that section of road.  While you weren't wearing your SnakeEyes costume, you weren't lighting up in the headlights too well either.  Thankfully, the fish belly white reflection from your lower legs helped a lot once I was close enough that my low-beams illuminated you.

While I am sorry that we, the users of the road, were driving at or below the legal speed limit and had to react violently to not strike you, I do not feel that bad.

You see, there was a perfectly good shoulder at the side of the road that people use every day to walk down that particular stretch of road.  Why you felt it necessary to prove your manhood and walk down the center of the road is unknown, but now that you know you're mui macho, please begin using it.  It would do my heart, suspension, and steering wheel a lot of good to not have to go almost 90 degrees to the right at 55 miles an hour so as to not turn you into road pizza.

Thanks ever so much, and I hope you're enjoying the hangover from whatever chemical enhancement brought you to the center of the road last night.

Sincerely,

DaddyBear