A Champion Appears!
Yesterday on my way home I struck a blow for the rights of Los Angeles bicyclists. As one rides down the larger streets of LA, every so often one will have a passing motorist honk at one, and wave to indicate that one should be riding up on the sidewalk, where one belongs. This is fucking ridiculous for many reasons, which I am always happy to enumerate. And I've been looking for an opportunity to enumerate them for any such motorist.
Yesterday this all happened yet again, as I was riding down Olympic, on my way home. I passed a Jeep (with an open top) as it was waiting to pull out from a gas station. As I passed, I made eye contact with the 10-year-old passenger of the car, who I assume was the driver's son. A minute later, the jeep passed me by, affording very little room and honking as it went. I gave the driver my trademarked "What the Fuck" shrug and glare, and he gave the familiar "Get the Hell Up on the Sidewalk Where You Belong" wave.
Fortunately for me, this was rush hour on Olympic Blvd., and he had no roof on his car, so it was only a minute before I pulled up alongside him and said, "Hey. You know that not only is this street a bike route, but it's illegal to ride on the sidewalk, right?"
He just nodded at me, I think a little shocked by the whole thing. But I finally got to vent a little of that pent-up self-righteousness. And hopefully both he and the kid learned a lesson. His: Stop trying to intimidate bicycles, you jeep-driving fucker. The kid's: Your dad's a douche.
Triumph!
I was shaking afterward, though.
In other news: My Panda Express fortune cookie at lunch said, "TURN YOUR THOUGHTS WITHIN - FIND YOURSELF."
Fuck you, fortune cookie. If you knew me, you'd know that the last thing I need to do more of is turning my thoughts within.
Yesterday this all happened yet again, as I was riding down Olympic, on my way home. I passed a Jeep (with an open top) as it was waiting to pull out from a gas station. As I passed, I made eye contact with the 10-year-old passenger of the car, who I assume was the driver's son. A minute later, the jeep passed me by, affording very little room and honking as it went. I gave the driver my trademarked "What the Fuck" shrug and glare, and he gave the familiar "Get the Hell Up on the Sidewalk Where You Belong" wave.
Fortunately for me, this was rush hour on Olympic Blvd., and he had no roof on his car, so it was only a minute before I pulled up alongside him and said, "Hey. You know that not only is this street a bike route, but it's illegal to ride on the sidewalk, right?"
He just nodded at me, I think a little shocked by the whole thing. But I finally got to vent a little of that pent-up self-righteousness. And hopefully both he and the kid learned a lesson. His: Stop trying to intimidate bicycles, you jeep-driving fucker. The kid's: Your dad's a douche.
Triumph!
I was shaking afterward, though.
In other news: My Panda Express fortune cookie at lunch said, "TURN YOUR THOUGHTS WITHIN - FIND YOURSELF."
Fuck you, fortune cookie. If you knew me, you'd know that the last thing I need to do more of is turning my thoughts within.