I was halfway across a zebra crossing when a very flash car came flying along, overtook the stationary car that had stopped for me to cross (contrary to the highway code) and missed hitting me by millimetres. The driver stuck his head out of the window and shouted, "Watch it girlie". I was indignant about narrowly avoiding injury or death but I was incandescent about being called girlie. Normally I am a non-violent person, but, without even thinking, I swung my massively heavy hard briefcase into the driver's door, yelling "Don't call me girlie," and severely dented his penis substitute ego.