I'm crossing Grace Street at College earlier today.
I'm doing so under the aegis of a walk light.
By doing so, I prevent the driver of a red van from making a right-hand turn on to Grace, costing his life valuable seconds.
As I reach the sidewalk, he not only opens his window, but sticks his upper torso out enough to peek around his windshield.
"Asshole!" he screams at me.
I guess if I'd walked on a wait signal, I would have been a "fucking asshole!"
Can you say, "anger management issues?"
Addendum
I'm crossing Queen Street. The walk light comes on.
Before I step off the curb, a silver SUV bearing a stylish young couple makes a hard right.
They slow a bit to make the turn. As they do, I make eye contact, wave with a faux happy face and mouth the words "walk light!"
They glanced sourly away.
I made my point without screaming obscenities (for once), but I wonder how many pedestrians in T.O. get struck in a given year because some knob has to get around a corner three seconds faster than he otherwise would.