No, I didn't find last week's winter wonderland ""pretty."" The yo-yo weather has got me feeling climate blue balls. And as an avid cyclist, it's about time Spring get here for real.
Yup, you heard me right. I'm one of those annoying people that hamper your motorized endeavors, and I'm here to offer some spring driving tips for avoiding two-wheeled rage.
Stop signs. I will go out of turn, and I may not even stop. You can take that extra three seconds out of your day of polluting to wait for me. Unlike you, I have to do more than move my right foot to get going.
Madison is filled with bike lanes—they're for bikes. Don't drive in them, and don't cut me off to make a turn. I keep a pocketful of rocks for jerks like you.
When I'm not riding in the haven of a bike lane, it's my ass that's on the line. You in your two-ton fortress are in no way endangered by me. Do not superfluously swerve around me like I'm a tractor. And please, don't give me the ‘courtesy honk.' I know you're there, I don't need a reminder. All your good-hearted noisemaking stands to do is make me veer into you in a sudden act of pants-shitting shock.
For that matter, don't ever honk or yell at me. You're just confirming what your Chevy truck and NASCAR stickers suggest—that you are a redneck asshole. Don't be stupid enough to yell at me in a residential area. I'll catch you at the next stoplight and probably follow you to the musty couch you call home.
Last of all, if your flicked cigarette butt comes anywhere near me, I will be forced to unleash a new phenomenon in violent murderA-A-—the bike-by.
