Back Me Up

Two days after the shock, we were walking around a popular area (通化街) of Taipei where people routinely walk on the street -- the actual street, not just the sidewalks -- and cars need to be especially wary of pedestrians.

A car came out of an alleyway, with lots of people walking in front of it. As is customary in Taipei, the car edges forward, hoping to create a break in the flow of humans to turn left onto the street.

Just as I was walking by, however, the driver didn't seem to want to come to a full stop for me. I kept my course, and she did too, barely nicking me. It was a close call, and too close for my comfort (and patience at the time).

I was ready.

I turned after just passing the corner of the car, bent down slightly, and slapped the hood with my hand. I stared right into the driver's eyes with a look that probably conveyed that neither she nor her passenger should get out of the car and confront me. Not right now.

And secretly, I was hoping they would. I was ready to get into a scrap. I needed a punchbag, and someone I didn't know, and anyone who had wronged me (even so minorly) would do just fine.

They didn't get out of the car, avoided further eye contact altogether, and we parted ways.

Right behind me, there was my brother backing me up, ready to join in on the fistivities.

That's family, baby.