Hey, you! Yeah, you. You were in your gigantic truck in the Triangle Square parking lot; my wife and I were attempting to walk across at the stop sign. You revved right on through the sign without stopping and I muttered, loud enough for you to hear, “Nice stop.” As we walked past, I noticed you roll down your passenger window to have words with me. I was prepared for you to stop the car and challenge me to a fight, or to simply call me a pussy or whatever. I was not prepared for you to lean over and apologize. You said you didn't know which way we were headed, and then you apologized again. I was so humbled I was barely able to voice the words, “Thank you.” My voice was so weak I'm not even sure you heard me. I'd like to say it again. Thank you.
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