if we weren't so alike you'd like me a whole lot more

my shoes squeak through the snow as i pass the car that is slowly turning around on the closed road. just as i walk across the harsh headlights, the horn blares out and a voice yells at me out of the passenger window.

"hey honnnneeeeeyyyy strut your stuff!" i don't respond. this obviously is damaging to male passenger's ego, and he decides that he must show his dominance through more words aimed at me. "c'mon you fucking slut....whore....BITCH!" he ends with a yell as the car speeds away.

i'm tempted to turn around and give him the finger. ah yes, the international sign for fuck you. i'm about to do it, a smile curving my lips, when i realize that i'm wearing mittens and that it would just look like i was batting away some imagined bug or something.

damn.