It was a damp, cloudy afternoon; the road was slick and the falling drizzle landed on the shades that I wear protect my eyes from wind and road grit. I was stippling my vision with tiny droplets.Despite the dreary conditions I was in a good mood. I was on my bike and making good time on my commute on my new favorite route; it has the advantages of being mostly flat, and the traffic seems to always be in my favor, making for a comfortable, quick and relatively stress free ride. Getting close to my destination I checked over my shoulder at the empty lane, I began to drift left to make my turn for the final mile of my trip.
“Blllllllllllaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrr!”, the horn from the beaten blue-green minivan screamed. Engine revving and going too fast the driver was blocks away at the intersection when I started my maneuver; now he was a short distance away and gaining fast. I slid back to the right and squeezed the brakes; the slick tires continued to spin as the pads tried in vain to grab hold of their sidewalls. My heart began to work triple time as I struggled to keep the bike from grinding against the curb and sending me ass over teakettle across the handlebars. The driver who was in such a hurry seconds ago made a point to slow down as he passed me, just to allow his crack toothed red-necked significant other to shout profanities at me for being in their way while they made an attempt to break the land speed record in their mobile salvage yard.
I managed to squeeze off one good, loud, extremely coherent, “#@*& YOU!” , as the found their accelerator once again. Their engine whined in emphasis of the fact that they believe that speed limits were something that happened to other people. I was pissed, mostly because I just instinctively caved in their little game of chicken that they played with me. I should have continued my drift and turned at the side street like I planned. I mean don’t I live in a supposed “Bicycle Friendly Communty” like the propaganda tells me! Whatever happened to share the road! I should have stood my ground, so to speak, and forced the pricks to either slow down to a reasonable speed or, well… erm…. yeah.
I need to buy a helmet.