This is Berkeley.

I was in the process of pulling out of the driveway of natural foods store when it happened. The driveway was a one-way, and I must have missed the signs that indicated this, though I didn’t see anything at all. The driveway exited to a four-way stop, which had just turned green in my direction. On the other side of the intersection was a middle-aged woman in a pink, early 90’s minivan. Her car was covered in a plethora of doo-dads, tassels, the automobile equivalent of sequins, and other loud, flashy shit. The car got my attention. Over the distraction of her obscene automobile, I saw her raise her arms, shake her head from side to side, and mouth something with an expression that was something between anger and disgust. I was blocking her from getting into the parking lot of the health food store. While she cursed me for my indiscretion, I mouthed back, “Oh please. Relax, lady”. I took my free right, while she turned red in the face. As I drove down the thruway, accelerating to the 45 MPH speed limit, I looked in my rear view mirror. Through the driver’s side window of the car she had stopped in the middle of the congested road, above what appeared to be a finger painting of the Virgin Mary the size of a bed pillow, I saw her watching me drive away, clearly in disbelief that someone could possibly be so inconsiderate. This is Berkeley, California.