I am so sorry if, at exactly 9:38 this morning, your dogs were howling wildly or your kids were crying and gripping at your legs because yes, that was me screaming "THAT'S A FUCKING WALK SIGN, DUDE" at the very top of my lungs at the intersection of Central Park South and Sixth Avenue. And when I say screaming, I don't mean that I raised my voice. I mean that I got out my broom and a can of mace and I was all over that car with all four limbs flailing and all of the tourists were like, "get me out of this place, these people are nuts" and all of the New Yorkers were like, "blah blah blah get off of that car, lady, you're holding up my fucking walk sign over here." And so I picked myself up, gave the cab the finger, and walked on to my fancy office on Madison Avenue.
P.S. This is true.
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