Okay, so there was a Mexican night at Cath and Jen's and we all had noms and wonderfulness and Lara and I decided we'd take off and catch the earlier bus home, perhaps not taking into account that it was a Friday night in a kind of crappy area of the city.
All is going well until we're halfway across one of the little side streets and this arsehole comes hooning around the corner. Since he's the speeding dickhead we sort of had little choice but to get the hell back off the road and stand there on the sidewalk. Dickhead pauses at the corner slams his horns and yells at us 'FUCK YOU!' Then, because my mouth goes before my brain does, I turn and yell out at the car, "EAT ME, BITCH!"
We keep walking and dickhead slams on his brakes and come screeching back towards us. Lara's pulling out her phone and whispering 'oh shit, oh shit,' but I was just seeing red. I was thinking Fuck you, mate, because you're in the goddamn wrong here and if you think I'm going to let you intimidate me then there's no way in hell that I'm backing down.
Which is STUPID because not only haven't I been in a real fight since I high school, this guy could be some huge kickboxer with a knife for all I know. But, no, adrenalin said bitch, let's fucking go!
I'm glad that he didn't get out of the car and after letting the car sit for a moment took of again. (At the time I actually felt a little let down.) edit: re-reading this makes it sound like I think I'm some sort of tough chick. I'm not. I'm a rubbish wimp which makes my emotional decision to want to fight this guy all the more ludicrous as I'm fully aware of the pummeling that would follow.)
The tortillas were awesome though.