I just finished walking my warm up and started running when a car whizzed by me and somebody yelled something ending in "you fat bitch" from the back of a gray Acura. I was mad. I stewed about it for the first half of my run. Thanks buddy for turning my time to escape into my head time into useless stewing. I mean really, did I know I wasn't fat? What makes you think I am a bitch? Do you always feel it necessary to yell out the car window? Did it make you feel better to make fun of me? Did your parents teach you no manners?
At dinner I told Gman about it. Here is what he wrote. I think he is torqued off enough for the both of us.