XX and XY
A note on my safety and the difference between male and female motorists. Scenarios are in chronological order.
Scenario 1: Male driver fails to stop at intersection while pulling into traffic on Bloor, effectively driving directly out in front of me. I brake while hitting the bell on my bicycle to alert this driver of my presence. He shouts "Oh, fuck you" and pulls into the line of cars beside me.
Scenario 2: Male driver pulls away from curb on St. George street in front of me while I am passing in the bicycle lane. I brake, ring the bell at him, turn to make sure he is stopped and pass safely. Male driver pulls into traffic lane and proceeds to shout something at me through his open passenger window.
Scenario 3: I try to pass a car in a line of traffic at a stoplight and clip the right side-view mirror, making a loud noise of it and slightly bruising my left baby finger. In rush-hour traffic first thing in the morning, I decide it is in the best interest of my personal safety NOT to turn around or stop because of this. The light changes and I cross the intersection. The motorist passes me just afterward, moving far enough to the left as she does so as to give me plenty of space.
Scenario 4: At the "bottom" of Beverly, I stop at a stop sign slightly behind a male cyclist, who is watching the car also stopped at the sign, to our left. After checking whether either one was going to move, I proceed to signal and make a right turn. When I reach the lights at Queen and Peter, the cyclist tells me "you almost got totally hit by that car at the stop-sign, there." Because I was not looking to chat with this fellow in the first place, my reply is but "really, eh?" He responds "you might want to maybe try to stop at stop signs" in a condescending tone. I say nothing. The way I see it, there is no point in arguing with this person about what he perceived or how he's a self-righteous vigilante for all penis kind.
Seriously, folks, I'm about to turn into a dyke on a bike. I'm getting some very unpleasant impressions of the male species out there. The male motorists are all out for blood and their blue testicles just rage no matter how nearly killed they could be getting me and the male cyclists all need to have their little say.
* * * *
Does it disappoint anyone else when you buy cereal and the box offers nothing more than irrelevant numbers about what's inside of it?
Scenario 1: Male driver fails to stop at intersection while pulling into traffic on Bloor, effectively driving directly out in front of me. I brake while hitting the bell on my bicycle to alert this driver of my presence. He shouts "Oh, fuck you" and pulls into the line of cars beside me.
Scenario 2: Male driver pulls away from curb on St. George street in front of me while I am passing in the bicycle lane. I brake, ring the bell at him, turn to make sure he is stopped and pass safely. Male driver pulls into traffic lane and proceeds to shout something at me through his open passenger window.
Scenario 3: I try to pass a car in a line of traffic at a stoplight and clip the right side-view mirror, making a loud noise of it and slightly bruising my left baby finger. In rush-hour traffic first thing in the morning, I decide it is in the best interest of my personal safety NOT to turn around or stop because of this. The light changes and I cross the intersection. The motorist passes me just afterward, moving far enough to the left as she does so as to give me plenty of space.
Scenario 4: At the "bottom" of Beverly, I stop at a stop sign slightly behind a male cyclist, who is watching the car also stopped at the sign, to our left. After checking whether either one was going to move, I proceed to signal and make a right turn. When I reach the lights at Queen and Peter, the cyclist tells me "you almost got totally hit by that car at the stop-sign, there." Because I was not looking to chat with this fellow in the first place, my reply is but "really, eh?" He responds "you might want to maybe try to stop at stop signs" in a condescending tone. I say nothing. The way I see it, there is no point in arguing with this person about what he perceived or how he's a self-righteous vigilante for all penis kind.
Seriously, folks, I'm about to turn into a dyke on a bike. I'm getting some very unpleasant impressions of the male species out there. The male motorists are all out for blood and their blue testicles just rage no matter how nearly killed they could be getting me and the male cyclists all need to have their little say.
* * * *
Does it disappoint anyone else when you buy cereal and the box offers nothing more than irrelevant numbers about what's inside of it?