Heather’s Story

Dear craphead in the large, unmarked white truck at Richmond and Poulin around 2:05pm,

With the humidex, it feels like 39 degrees Celsius today. Maybe it’s easy to forget that from inside your (presumably) air conditioned truck but, as I wait on the side of the road for my bus, I’m very aware of how hot it is. As such, I’m sure you’d love to know that I am not wearing my shorts and tank top for you. They are for me. And, while I’m trying not to melt, you should be glad I didn’t have a camera to snap a picture of you to post on this site. You should also be glad that whatever company you’re driving for didn’t advertise on the truck, and that I couldn’t read your license plate. You get off scot free, but I had to hear your nasty, leering whistle. Worse, I’m probably not the only one who dealt with that BS today. Screw off.

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