Sometimes I Just Have to Laugh

I woke up dreading work today. I am giving a training where people are coming from outside the company to hear me speak. People are paying money to hear me ramble for three hours. It wasn't my idea- I was more or less drafted to be the expert. It just all seems so pretentious. I might feel differently if I received a cut from the revenue.

My ride in was wonderful. It helped clear my head and help me focus on my presentation. There was, however, one odd glitch to my commute. As I was on my brief stretch of West River Road between the parkway and the Ford Bridge, I was riding off the bumper of the car in front of me, signaling a left to catch the bridge. I could see in my geeky mirror that there was an SUV behind me. I had room, although he was crowding me. It didn't make much sense, since there was a car in front of me, and I was riding the speed of traffic. Anyway, I stopped, did a brief trackstand, and turned left. I was met with a loud honk. I turned around and asked, "What?" as he pulled over. He looked like an extra from Hee-Haw, and he sounded like Scooby Doo as he yelled, "Muhghrgh jurghrugh mughgerth!"

I said, "What?" again, to which he replied, "Where are your lights?" I couldn't believe it. It was getting close to 7, and there was plenty of light. Half the cars didn't have their lights on. Mine were still on, since it was dark when I left and it is a pain to turn them off while riding. I flipped the bike around to show him the flashing tail light and said, "You mean this light?"

At this point I noticed he had handicap plates- not that there is anything wrong with that. He then changed the topic and told me to ride on the sidewalk. I told him the speed limit was 10 mph, that it was posted on the trail behind him. I pointed. I asked him to turn around to read the sign. He refused to look, but managed to get in the last word, saying "I don't care," as he sped off.

Here is the thing about this type of situation: he did not threaten me or endanger me in any way. I didn't ride away wishing I had handled the situation any differently. I had no revenge fantasies. I didn't even bother memorizing his plates. It was more amusing than anything else. Next time something like this occurs, I am contemplating responding with a "Jeg kan bare snakke Norsk," or "Jeg kan ikke forsto deg"- just to see the reaction.

Later, I spotted a woman riding a fixed gear with chopped and flipped bars along the Shepard Road Trail. I don't see that everyday.