I know that you're a busy woman, as shown by the way you multi-tasked on Preston Avenue -- driving your new Mercedes AND talking on the phone at the same time.
I know that your phone call was very important -- maybe you were calling the housekeeper of your winter home in Eleuthera to discuss plans for your December 20th arrival. Or perhaps you were calling your sorority sister Muffy to discuss your spa getaway. Or maybe you were scheduling your next face lift.
You are a busy, important woman. I get that. I understand.
So when I tooted my horn at you, it was just a gentle reminder that green lights mean GO. Green lights do not mean to continue sitting there in your shiny fancy car, chatting on the phone, and blocking traffic. I wasn't trying to ruin your life or make your day difficult, I was simply trying to get traffic moving so that the fifteen cars behind me had a chance to get through the light too. There was no need to be huffy or gesture your well-manicured, but covered in age spots, hands at me.
Believe me, if I had wanted to truly piss you off, I would have done so. Imagine the horn of my minivan beeping nonstop for some time. Imagine me waving my very own hands at you and providing helpful hand gestures. Imagine me rolling down my windows and hollering some friendly advice to you.
And if you are going to talk on the phone whilst driving, I suggest you place a call to your colorist. I could see your roots from 25 feet away.
Merry Christmas to you, Biff, and your other hoity toity friends.