An Open Letter
Open Letter to the Douche Who Yelled at Me When I Rode My Bike Through an Intersection
Dear Sir,
At approximately 4:45 this hot and humid Tuesday you were stopped in your cerulean blue F150 at the 4-way intersection at 28th and Irving by Lake of the Isles and I was rounding off a 2 hour bike-ride. I was exhausted, dehydrated, and anxious to get home. I noticed that the flow of traffic was timed just right for me to keep sailing down the hill and make my left turn with the car that had just begun to turn left.
I suppose you saw me coming, or else you would not have rolled down your window to scream, "YOU HAVE TO STOP!"
No, actually, I don't. And as it turns out, I didn't. If you had screamed,"YOU SHOULD STOP!" I would've had to nod Right-o and then politely decline your suggestion. I'm not disputing that I should stop. There are legal and safety reasons to be sure, but that's never stopped me before and you can bet your gas-guzzling, four-wheel-drive beast that I'm not going to start now. The cars don't even stop more than half the time, and the cops have better things to do so you can kiss my sweaty biker butt.
You weren't content with just yelling at me, oh no. While your cool, air-conditioned cab was filling with the harsh, heated reality of the outside climate, you cursed loudly and tried to intimidate me by stomping the gas, revving your Ford engine, and then speeding narrowly past me. Clearly you do not know who you are dealing with, because I do not give credence to such petty trifles as attempted vehicular manslaughter. I don't even flinch.
You tore away, only to slam on your breaks because the car I turned with was actually going the speed limit. I turned, laughing, into my alleyway less than half-a-block from the intersection.
At this point, I started thinking about what a monumental douche you were. Not only did you go out of your way to reprimand a complete stranger for breaking traffic laws, but you then broke several others in your rage afterward. Way to go, Slick.
Furthermore, my turn did not cost you any additional time at the stop sign. I made my turn in concurrence with another vehicle. Two vehicles, one turn. It was beautiful, like synchronized driving, until you interrupted our dance with your ridiculous discord.
Oh, and might I remind you that I was on a bike? I'm a step above a pedestrian. It takes me longer to get where I'm going because I can only go so fast while you, sir, you have acceleration. You have your gigantic, carbon-emitting beast that can make up for any lost seconds in less than one and it doesn't cause you any exertion. I had been riding around town for two hours, transporting myself in a free, clean, environmentally healthy fashion, and during which time I was almost hit four times by your fellow automobile operators while I was obeying all traffic laws! I am tired. I wanted to get off the road and get on my couch.
Bottom line: I saw an opportunity and I took it. It was illegal, but no one got hurt, I knew what I was doing, and it didn't cost you anything. So piss off. I'm not sorry.
Also, who drives a fucking truck in the middle of a thriving metropolis? Don't even act like you haul anything in your pretty little blue baby.
Not yours,
Peddles Von Bikesalot
Dear Sir,
At approximately 4:45 this hot and humid Tuesday you were stopped in your cerulean blue F150 at the 4-way intersection at 28th and Irving by Lake of the Isles and I was rounding off a 2 hour bike-ride. I was exhausted, dehydrated, and anxious to get home. I noticed that the flow of traffic was timed just right for me to keep sailing down the hill and make my left turn with the car that had just begun to turn left.
I suppose you saw me coming, or else you would not have rolled down your window to scream, "YOU HAVE TO STOP!"
No, actually, I don't. And as it turns out, I didn't. If you had screamed,"YOU SHOULD STOP!" I would've had to nod Right-o and then politely decline your suggestion. I'm not disputing that I should stop. There are legal and safety reasons to be sure, but that's never stopped me before and you can bet your gas-guzzling, four-wheel-drive beast that I'm not going to start now. The cars don't even stop more than half the time, and the cops have better things to do so you can kiss my sweaty biker butt.
You weren't content with just yelling at me, oh no. While your cool, air-conditioned cab was filling with the harsh, heated reality of the outside climate, you cursed loudly and tried to intimidate me by stomping the gas, revving your Ford engine, and then speeding narrowly past me. Clearly you do not know who you are dealing with, because I do not give credence to such petty trifles as attempted vehicular manslaughter. I don't even flinch.
You tore away, only to slam on your breaks because the car I turned with was actually going the speed limit. I turned, laughing, into my alleyway less than half-a-block from the intersection.
At this point, I started thinking about what a monumental douche you were. Not only did you go out of your way to reprimand a complete stranger for breaking traffic laws, but you then broke several others in your rage afterward. Way to go, Slick.
Furthermore, my turn did not cost you any additional time at the stop sign. I made my turn in concurrence with another vehicle. Two vehicles, one turn. It was beautiful, like synchronized driving, until you interrupted our dance with your ridiculous discord.
Oh, and might I remind you that I was on a bike? I'm a step above a pedestrian. It takes me longer to get where I'm going because I can only go so fast while you, sir, you have acceleration. You have your gigantic, carbon-emitting beast that can make up for any lost seconds in less than one and it doesn't cause you any exertion. I had been riding around town for two hours, transporting myself in a free, clean, environmentally healthy fashion, and during which time I was almost hit four times by your fellow automobile operators while I was obeying all traffic laws! I am tired. I wanted to get off the road and get on my couch.
Bottom line: I saw an opportunity and I took it. It was illegal, but no one got hurt, I knew what I was doing, and it didn't cost you anything. So piss off. I'm not sorry.
Also, who drives a fucking truck in the middle of a thriving metropolis? Don't even act like you haul anything in your pretty little blue baby.
Not yours,
Peddles Von Bikesalot