Ode to the Motorist (re: RANT)

Dear Motorist,

Hi! I see you coming down the road in your big ass pickup truck, spewing dust and debris in your wake. Hi! HI!!! Do you see me? It's ME! HI! I'm the one running towards you on the side of the road! Can you see me? How can you NOT see me in my magenta/pink/aqua running shirt and pink visor? Do you see me now? Ah! I take it from that barely perceptible nod that you DO see me! YAY! Ok. Good.

Well Mr. Motorist (and really this is gender non-specific), I was wondering something. Could you do me a favor? Please? PRETTY PLEASE? You see, I am running on the side of the road. Yes, I know I am actually IN the road a tad. Just a tad. But you see Mr. Motorist, there's no shoulder here on this road. I really am as over to the side as I can be. The edge of the road is quite dicey with the crumpled pavement and rocks and loose dirt. So I am over as far as I can be without running in this shit. And, sorry, but no, I really can't move all the way over and onto the grass so as to not be in the road at all. I knw this is an inconvenience to you, but, well, you see, running in the grass, while better for the body (joints and such), it is actually quite dangerous (rolled ankles and such). So no, I don't plan on running in the grass to get off the road, so that you can pass me with ease.

So, back to my favor, Mr. Motorist. I was wondering - if you wouldn't mind that is - could you please move your FUCKING GAS GUZZLING PIECE OF SHIT OVER TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROAD AS YOU GO PAST ME? PLEASE? I know it's a lot of trouble. I know you might not actually be able to move to the other side of the road due to oncoming traffic. I know. This is so inconvenient for you. I know it's difficult to just wait the 10 seconds or so for the oncoming car to pass so you can give me some room to run. I know you're in a hurry (although, by the brief look I get of you as you go roaring past with inches to spare, the only thing you have EVER hurried to is the McDonald's before it closes). But if you wouldn't mind, please, PLEASE, allow me some space to run on the road.

Because you see Mr. Motorist, I am not on this road, running in the heat, the humidity, sweating like a pig, huffing and puffing, and looking quite unattractive because I have a DEATH WISH. Really, because I don't. And I am not out here to make your life difficult. Honestly, I'm not. I can tell by the look you give me as you speed past that this is EXACTLY what you're thinking. But you are wrong.

So, dear Mr. Motorist, if you wouldn't mind, next time you come across me on the road, take a moment, as you drive by, chomping on your Big Mac, smoking your cigarette, in your air-conditioned fume-laden MOTORIZED vehicle, and remember one little, eensy-weensy, itty-bitty thing:

SHARE THE FUCKING ROAD WITH ME, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE.

Thanks, I really do appreciate it - and I can't wait to see you on the road again,

Sincerely,
FLAME