As I was driving the four-minute commute from campus to my apartment, I felt an unfamiliar speed bump along Stewart Avenue. My initial surprise quickly morphed into horror as I realized that what I thought was a speed bump was actually a person.
Feeling sick, I pulled over and quickly ran to the motionless, slightly flattened figure. I tried to examine them to get an indication of who they were and ascertain if they might be okay. After a few seconds of observation, they emitted a low, gurgled groan from deep in their throat. This let me breathe a huge sigh of relief. All was okay. Everything was right with the world. I had only hit a man!
Phew, thank God! I know She was looking down on me and smiling. That’s the only way I could’ve been so lucky as to strike a male progenitor from the breeding pool. He screamed for his mother as his limbs contorted in unconventional directions. Huh, look who needs women now? His newly punctured femoral artery painted the road like a scarlet blossom bringing hope to a weary world in early spring. The scene nearly brought a tear to my eye. Girlboss moment!
I practically skipped back to my car. The new dent in the bumper was a trophy for a job well done. The world just seemed brighter after I realized I had done my part to bring down the patriarchy. Making my way back to Collegetown, I knew I was making my foremothers proud. Shattering the glass ceiling, one tibia at a time. Ooh, and he was also white! Bonus points!
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