<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="yes"?><oembed><version><![CDATA[1.0]]></version><provider_name><![CDATA[hermesss-aglaea]]></provider_name><provider_url><![CDATA[https://hermesssaglaeadotcom.wordpress.com]]></provider_url><author_name><![CDATA[hermesssaglaea]]></author_name><author_url><![CDATA[https://hermesssaglaeadotcom.wordpress.com/author/hermesssaglaea/]]></author_url><title><![CDATA[A Right to be a&nbsp;BITCH]]></title><type><![CDATA[link]]></type><html><![CDATA[<div></div>
<div><img loading="lazy" data-attachment-id="12294" data-permalink="https://hermesssaglaeadotcom.wordpress.com/2016/07/17/a-right-to-be-a-bitch/img_7749-3/" data-orig-file="https://hermesssaglaeadotcom.files.wordpress.com/2016/07/img_7749-3.jpg" data-orig-size="4926,2972" data-comments-opened="1" data-image-meta="{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;4.5&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;Canon EOS 7D&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;1466960243&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;33&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;250&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0.016666666666667&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;1&quot;}" data-image-title="IMG_7749 (3)" data-image-description="" data-image-caption="" data-medium-file="https://hermesssaglaeadotcom.files.wordpress.com/2016/07/img_7749-3.jpg?w=300" data-large-file="https://hermesssaglaeadotcom.files.wordpress.com/2016/07/img_7749-3.jpg?w=1024" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-12294" src="https://hermesssaglaeadotcom.files.wordpress.com/2016/07/img_7749-3.jpg?w=4926&#038;h=2972" alt="IMG_7749 (3)" width="4926" height="2972" srcset="https://hermesssaglaeadotcom.files.wordpress.com/2016/07/img_7749-3.jpg 4926w, https://hermesssaglaeadotcom.files.wordpress.com/2016/07/img_7749-3.jpg?w=150&amp;h=90 150w, https://hermesssaglaeadotcom.files.wordpress.com/2016/07/img_7749-3.jpg?w=300&amp;h=181 300w, https://hermesssaglaeadotcom.files.wordpress.com/2016/07/img_7749-3.jpg?w=768&amp;h=463 768w, https://hermesssaglaeadotcom.files.wordpress.com/2016/07/img_7749-3.jpg?w=1024&amp;h=618 1024w" sizes="(max-width: 4926px) 100vw, 4926px" />You know that situation when you try to enter a main street traffic from a side road and your only options is to wait when a road light down the road turns red and cars will stop moving.</div>
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<div>On the way home I was waiting when cars stop to enter a traffic, but a driver on my right disagreed on that. So  I&#8217;m awkwardly standing in the middle of the bike parth with my three quarters of a car sticking out.</div>
<div>She (driver from a right) start closing a gap and make my turning a bit trickier. I noticed tension and asked kindly if I can move forward cause quater of my car is already in and we are standing and waiting for a green light any way. She mumbled smth behind closed windows. Green light. Everyone is moving. My turn. I&#8217;ve looked at her and she furiously over took my car. Thanks God I contemplated and looked, otherwise it would be a different story. I laughed and showed her a thumbs up.</div>
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<div>I guess she has a right not to be kind and has a right not to pretend that she is willing to help. No. She showed me a fuck in the open window when I drove behind her. I showed her O.K sign. Laughted again, swallowed her &#8220;fuck&#8221; and turned to the right. And I again though that to be fair to her she has a right&#8230;. she has a right not to be kind and not give me space&#8230; BUT WHAT A BITCH!</div>
<div>•••</div>
<div>Вам известно то чувство, когда единственной возможностью повернуть на основную дорогу &#8211; это дождаться, пока светофор загорится красными все встанут, оставляя пространство для вас? Вы поворачиваете в образвавшийся пространство, и кто-то специально закрывает вам путь.</p>
<div>Что вы чувствуете,  когда вас не пропустили? Что вы чувствуете, когда не пропускаете вы? Вот и я, сравнив одно чувство с другим, решила, что не пускающий меня водитель не обязан быть добрым. Он волен думать только о себе и намеренно перекрыть мне дорогу. Волен. Но каков КОЗЕЛ!</div>
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