Got screamed at for the first time today

I had a really good one this morning. I'm grooving up Hudson St. in
Manhattan on the fix, and some nut buzzes me real close. Whatever.
He's got Jersey plates, which is par for the course. Hudson St. is
where the Holland Tunnel lets out, so that's where all the clueless
masses from New Jersey get dumped on their way into the city.
Naturally, I pass the guy a few blocks later in slow traffic, and I
make sure to fully take the lane in front of him this time, so he
can't pull the buzz maneuver again. This completely enrages the
fellow, and he starts leaning on his horn behind me. Never mind that
I'm four feet from the back bumper of the cab in front of me, going
exactly the speed of traffic. That's irrelevant. HOOOOONNNNNK! When
there's room to do so, I pull into the bike lane on the left, and the
irate driver pulls up beside me and rolls down his window. He's this
musclebound guy with a jarhead haircut and a little thin moustache.
Veins are popping out on the guy's forehead.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK THE BIKE LANE IS FOR?" shouts the jarhead.

He rages off before I can give the patently obvious reply, "Why, to
double park delivery trucks in, of course!" I give a beaming grin and
a cheerful wave. And why not? I havcen't had this much fun in a while.
The jarhead is so busy scowling at me in his rearview mirror and
flipping me the bird that he almost doesn't notice that traffic is at
a dead stop a hundred feet in front of him. He slams on the brakes,
and I glide smoothly by his driver-side window and give him a little
fingers-only wave: buh-bye.

He never catches me again.

CC

(Corvus Corvax) wrote:

Never mind that
I'm four feet from the back bumper of the cab in front of me, going
exactly the speed of traffic. That's irrelevant. HOOOOONNNNNK!

Monday or Tuesday morning I'm commuting to work down Main Street/Hwy 287
in Longmont, Colorado. Speed limit is 25 mph, I'm going 28 mph, but most
traffic is passing me anyway on this 4-lane street. A nice induhvidual
behind me driving a Chevy Suburban kindly beeps his horn to let me know
he's behind me. I kindly point at the speed limit sign that we happen to
be passing at that point in time.

It's literally been years since I've been honked at.

RFM
--
To reply, translate domain from l33+ 2p33| to alpha.
4=a 0=o 3=e +=t

So, I'm riding my bike home from work on Hwy 100, keeping to the right, but to
the left of the white line on the side of the road, as is my custom [and legal
right]. No bike lanes here, folks.

As cars are buzzing past me at 35 mph on this 4-lane street, some maroon gets
behind me and honks. One short beep.

I hold my line.

One longer beep.

I hold my line

One reeeeealy loooong blast on the old horn-o-rino.

I hold my line.

Finally, asshat decides to pull into the left lane and pass me. Only it's Miss
Asshat, and three of her cute, high school aged girl friends. They yell
something rude. Catching them at the next stop light I ask, "Do I make you
horney?" in my best Austin Powers voice.

They laugh. I laugh. We all get over it.
--
J'm


To Reply Direct, Remove Clothes.
....-.-

In article ,
says...

....

Finally, asshat decides to pull into the left lane and pass me. Only it's Miss
Asshat, and three of her cute, high school aged girl friends. They yell
something rude. Catching them at the next stop light I ask, "Do I make you
horney?" in my best Austin Powers voice.

LOL


They laugh. I laugh. We all get over it.

I'm glad it worked...

--
David Kerber
An optimist says "Good morning, Lord." While a pessimist says "Good
Lord, it's morning".

Remove the ns_ from the address before e-mailing.

In article ,
says...

I had a really good one this morning. I'm grooving up Hudson St. in
Manhattan on the fix, and some nut buzzes me real close. Whatever.
He's got Jersey plates, which is par for the course. Hudson St. is
where the Holland Tunnel lets out, so that's where all the clueless
masses from New Jersey get dumped on their way into the city.
Naturally, I pass the guy a few blocks later in slow traffic, and I
make sure to fully take the lane in front of him this time, so he
can't pull the buzz maneuver again. This completely enrages the
fellow, and he starts leaning on his horn behind me. Never mind that
I'm four feet from the back bumper of the cab in front of me, going
exactly the speed of traffic. That's irrelevant. HOOOOONNNNNK! When
there's room to do so, I pull into the bike lane on the left, and the
irate driver pulls up beside me and rolls down his window. He's this
musclebound guy with a jarhead haircut and a little thin moustache.
Veins are popping out on the guy's forehead.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK THE BIKE LANE IS FOR?" shouts the jarhead.

He rages off before I can give the patently obvious reply, "Why, to
double park delivery trucks in, of course!" I give a beaming grin and
a cheerful wave. And why not? I havcen't had this much fun in a while.
The jarhead is so busy scowling at me in his rearview mirror and
flipping me the bird that he almost doesn't notice that traffic is at
a dead stop a hundred feet in front of him. He slams on the brakes,
and I glide smoothly by his driver-side window and give him a little
fingers-only wave: buh-bye.

He never catches me again.

I miss commuting more and more everyday. Most of my daily hassles come
from either the drive to or from work.

nk