0 comment Friday, July 11, 2014 | admin
I'm riding east on 12th Avenue today after riding and drinking coffee and eating donuts with my buddy Robb all morning, and following a silver Honda Civic up 12th. We stop at the light at Washington, and they go, really slowly, and I'm following pretty close behind at first until they step on the gas a little bit. Then the Civic stops at the red light at Clarkson, the next block, and I slowly roll up behind it when I hear a honk from behind me.
I turn around and look, nothing but a brand-new Saturn hatchback with two guys in the front seat and two ladies in the back seat. I turn back around. Another honk. I turn around again to hear the driver saying something unintelligible.
"What's that?" I say to the guy.
"I said, you just about hit that car in front of you and now you're holding me up," he says. I think to myself that it's actually all the red lights that are "holding him up," as here we are, sitting at a red light with car ten feet in front of me. Not sure how much progress he's looking to make. I say nothing.
"Get moving," he says. I'm at first offended that this guy is trying to tell me how to ride a bicycle on a bike route in my city, on Capitol Hill, my neighborhood. But I've been getting pretty good at trying to understand people lately. Just the same, I do a quick assessment: Two guys with two girls to impress in the back seat versus a guy on a bike ... I step off to the side of the street and say, "Go ahead," motioning for him to pass me.
As he's passing by me standing off to the side to let him go and giving him the thumbs-up, he yells, "Get it together."
I'd just like to point out that I was the guy out enjoying a bike ride on a Sunday, not the one throwing a fit at the bicyclist in front of me on a street where there's a stoplight every two blocks. Duly noted, sir, I will do my best to some day get my shit together. I clip into my pedals and start laughing.
He drives three blocks, and stops at the red light at Corona, at which point I pull up right behind him and wait 15 seconds for the light to change, then follow him. He drives one more block, stops at the red light at Downing, and I pull up behind him and we wait 10 seconds for that light to change. All the while, resisting the urge to yell, "Am I holding you up now?"
Then I turn off 12th at Lafayette and ride home.
I turn around and look, nothing but a brand-new Saturn hatchback with two guys in the front seat and two ladies in the back seat. I turn back around. Another honk. I turn around again to hear the driver saying something unintelligible.
"What's that?" I say to the guy.
"I said, you just about hit that car in front of you and now you're holding me up," he says. I think to myself that it's actually all the red lights that are "holding him up," as here we are, sitting at a red light with car ten feet in front of me. Not sure how much progress he's looking to make. I say nothing.
"Get moving," he says. I'm at first offended that this guy is trying to tell me how to ride a bicycle on a bike route in my city, on Capitol Hill, my neighborhood. But I've been getting pretty good at trying to understand people lately. Just the same, I do a quick assessment: Two guys with two girls to impress in the back seat versus a guy on a bike ... I step off to the side of the street and say, "Go ahead," motioning for him to pass me.
As he's passing by me standing off to the side to let him go and giving him the thumbs-up, he yells, "Get it together."
I'd just like to point out that I was the guy out enjoying a bike ride on a Sunday, not the one throwing a fit at the bicyclist in front of me on a street where there's a stoplight every two blocks. Duly noted, sir, I will do my best to some day get my shit together. I clip into my pedals and start laughing.
He drives three blocks, and stops at the red light at Corona, at which point I pull up right behind him and wait 15 seconds for the light to change, then follow him. He drives one more block, stops at the red light at Downing, and I pull up behind him and we wait 10 seconds for that light to change. All the while, resisting the urge to yell, "Am I holding you up now?"
Then I turn off 12th at Lafayette and ride home.
Labels: Perspective