I was having a perfectly good bike ride home in the rain yesterday.
While I was waiting for the left-turn light, the car behind me started revving his engine. Though my moron detector had been set off (it works a lot like Spider Sense), I ignored it until the light turned. When it did, I blasted through the intersection towards the bike lane. As the truck passed me, the passengers of the vehicle yelled some kind of clever comment across the road, intended to razzle me.
The evening traffic was constipated, with cars backed up at each of the four intersections over the next mile. When the light went through its wash-rinse-spin cycle, there was a mad dash as cars accelerated hard. Once again, the passengers made another comment as the SUV passed me then had to stop for cars who didn’t make it through the previous cycle. I passed them again, this time getting a good look at the license plate. While waiting for the light, I jotted down (WA) 242-KTL.
Another verbal parry came from the teenagers as they raced by then had to stop at the light. They clearly had been unaware that the traffic would make it really easy for me to keep up and eventually pass them like the paperboy in
Better off Dead. When it was my turn to pass them again, they all scurried to roll their windows up. They were 20 car lengths behind me, motionless, when I turned off the main road.
I’d love to achieve some kind of grand cosmic schadenfreude as their concerned parents cut off their allowance,
making them unable to fill the tank and have to ride bikes themselves. (Uphill. In the rain.) So far, for minor nuisances like this, the best thing seems to be ignoring them, thus depriving them of cheap jollies. I may one day want to invest in a Hans-Cam.
“Give me my two dollars!”
Maybe you should have tried to empty one of your water bottles into their car. If you had one filled with a nice sugary drink that would have been a lot of fun to clean up.
This reminds me of a ride home in early April. I was finishing coming up Eastgate Way, a fairly stiff climb, and some twitbrain a silver Encore first honked right behind me
just to see me jump, and then the young fellow in the passenger seat yelled something at me. The words were unintelligible, but the intent was clear. I could hear them laughing as they zoomed away.
At the top of the hill there’s a stop light, and it was not long before I had caught up to the Encore. I doubt they expected that, seeing that I was coming up the hill so slow. The Encore is in one of the left turn lanes, and
I’m next to it in the go-straight-or-turn-right lane. To my right is the right-turn-only lane. There’s a whole bunch of cars waiting at the light there.
I exclaim, “Excuse me! Excuse me!” until I finally get the young fellow to unroll his window. I say, in a motherly voice, “I heard you shouting to me as you passed by me earlier on the hill, but I couldn’t quite make out what
you said. Is everything OK? Do you need help with anything?” There’s probably about 8 or 10 motorists all rather curiously staring at me and the Encore, trying to figure out what is going on, probably because they’re
bored waiting at this interminable light, and this is the most interesting thing happening. “I was afraid that maybe you had some difficulty. Are you sure you’re all right?” Like, are you sure you don’t need a brain transplant, IDIOT?!! but of course outwardly I was all maternal concern.
They disavow any need for assistance, and embarrassedly roll up their window. The light turns green.
I ride away in triumph.
Side-mount an aerosol can of Easy-off to your handlebars.
I’ve been thinking about getting one of those compressed air horns. Tooted into the open passenger window just might get their attention.
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