The Little Red Man

Gisborne Street and Albert Street. Morning. Peak hour.

A pedestrian runs across the lights as the little man turns red. A car turning right continues to make it's turn despite the pedestrian. It turns slightly wider to miss the man.

"You stupid bitch," yells the man and he swings his brief case which hits the back panel of the car.

The woman driver pulls over and gets out of her car to inspect it. There is a dent in the panel work.

The pedestrian walks along the footpath toward her.

"I want your name and phone number."

"I want you to obey the road laws, but as we've just witnessed you don't always get want you want." He says dismissively as he continues past her car.

She runs around the front of her can and grabs him by the arm.

"I want your name. My car is damaged."

"Listen here rat-face, if you don't let go of my arm I will have you charged with assault."

She lets go.

"You were walking against the red man."

"I suggest you read up on your road laws."

"You have wilfully damaged my car."

"It was self-defence, you tried to run me down."

"I'm calling the police."

"Go for your life." He turns to walk away."

"I want your name..."

"You can whistle Dixie. And you'll be lucky if you're not charged with dangerous driving. I may report you..."

"I'm not giving you my name."

He looks at the front number plate. "SMK 001."

"It's not my car."

The pedestrian steps toward her. "You know something, that's the wonderful thing about the twenty first century. Self-centred, selfish and who gives a damn about the next bloke, mate. If in fact that is true, which I doubt, all I have to do is threaten the driver with dangerous driving charges and he'll whistle like a bird."

"It's my husband's car."

"Jesus, well that could prove hard to trace."