This morning I was on my normal route to work, going the normally frustrating speed limit - which I obey to the "T" through one particular area because so many pedestrians are to be found gallivanting around.
I see an elderly gentleman and immediately glance down to the speedometer - 25. That means I'm actually going 23 -24, cause my car reads fast.
Then it happens.
I see the gestures, the mouth dropping into a yelling sort of shape. Yes, he is really doing it. This old man is using every last ounce of energy he can muster to yell at me and give me the old fist shake and fingers pointing downward.
Confused, I look at my speedometer again.
Apparently, going under the speed limit is not slow enough for this tough old cookie.
I immediately throw the car into reverse, roll down my windows and say, "I'm going 24, old man! Get a life!" Then, I floor it and speed away into the sunrise.
Okay, so maybe I didn't do that last part, but I sure wanted to.
I hope I have more to do when I am old and gray than yell at people for obeying the law.