Horn of Death

I stand about 6’3″ and am in pretty good shape. No athlete or anything. But I can move at a decent clip when I want to.
SO I can’t tell you why the inbred speed-fetishists at the corner of 15th and H feel the need to lay on their horns every time I cross in front of them.
We’ll ignore the fact that I have the right of way. What truley makes this boggle the mind is that there is no way; absolutely no way; that I could be delaying them, for even a second. They’re making a right hand turn, so there is no risk of traffic blocking their passage, once I’ve inched my way over the crosswalk. They also happen to be on a one way street, which means no one from the opposite direction will be making any sudden turns into their lanes. And the street on the opposite side of the intersection from their intended route is also a one way street, going in the opposite direction.
So no one else for a one block radius is coming anywhere near disturbing their progress. Except me. Of course… this is rush hour. Always rush hour. And in rush hour, the lower half of fifteenth street is bumper to bumper. I would literally have to drag myself across the street with my tongue in the middle of winter so that i froze to the street every other step… in order for me to delay these people from getting to their destination one second later.
So if I catch you honking at me on that corner, I will drag you from your car, chop you into kibble, and feed you to my attack cat. She’s been getting that look in her eyes again.