May the patron saint of crosswalks and hydraulic bollards preserve me from old, entitled, oblivious men awkwardly piloting high powered sports cars that far outstrip their ability to control them safely; and preserve me also from all the other power they hold but cannot safely control, and for which they refuse to take responsibility.
(Sick and tired of luxury car drivers almost crushing me & other pedestrians by trying to push through a line of people crossing at a light. NO RIGHTS ON REDS.)
