You were in your car. I was on foot. We approached each other down a narrow road with a chain link fence on the far side and a ten foot tall cement wall on my side. There was no sidewalk, only a small curb. You directed your car toward me, planning to squeeze me out. I stopped, incredulous, waved my hands and said, “Where do you want me to go?” I could see that you were gesturing too. I gestured at the wall and said, “There is a wall.” You moved over, but just barely, and you gestured some more. Your mouth was moving too. A motorcycle went by, presumably the reason you were planning to snuff me out in my tracks. I understand that runners are frustrating, but when there aren’t any sidewalks, exactly where would you like us to go? Disappearing is not an option.