Mom was driving because I had planned to pick up an order from the Apple Store in Berkeley, and parking is usually a pain there. Even though we were in bumper-to-bumper traffic, we were having fun on the way. I was dancing in my seat and singing BBD’s “Poison” as it played on the radio, and we were joking about how we don’t go out dancing anymore. Then, one exit away from ours, it happened. We were in the lane closest to the exit, and a guy in an old Toyota Tacoma hit us on the passenger rear corner as he was exiting. I…was…FURIOUS. I almost jumped out of the car before we pulled onto the shoulder, because for a moment, it seemed that the other driver wasn’t going to stop. He did, and when we parked, I jumped out of the car, walked up to his driver-side window, and yelled,
“What the f@%k is wrong with you? You f@%king…”
That was wrong. I shouldn’t have done that. I wouldn’t want you to do that. Not only was it wrong, but it wasn’t safe. I didn’t know who I was approaching or what their mind state would be. Black men are shot over much less. It was irresponsible. But I wasn’t thinking clearly, and I took his carelessness as a…
