Last mile, coming up 156th, some high school boys yelled something nasty at me and threw something out of their car. They didn’t expect me – they never do – to catch up to them at the light.

I pounded on their window and said, “Boys? Excuse me, boys?”

They looked ahead with stony faces, refused to acknowledge me.

Before I got the chance to say anything else, the light turned green, and they zoomed off.